Taken
by TheeStoryTeller
Summary: Tobias LeStrange has grown up knowing he was born to be the Heir of the Dark Lord, Voldemort. But what happens when Tobias realizes his true identity and discovers he is none other than Harry Potter, who the wizarding world knows to be dead. How will Tobias endure the truth and stay loyal to his destiny? A retelling of all 7 HP books, with a dark twist.
1. SS1: The Heir of the Dark Lord

They can't keep a good man down

Always keep a smile when they want me to frowns

Keep the vibes and they stood my grounds

They will never ever take my crown

~ Crown – Jay-Z

Chapter 1: The Heir of the Dark Lord

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"

Pathetic. He thought. Didn't they know they couldn't escape him now that he has found them? Voldemort always gets his man. Always. And to make it even easier, the imbecile didn't even have a wand in his hand. Hold him off? Without a wand? No wonder their secret keeper was Wormtail—they were complete idiots. He laughed at the man, holding up his wand and preparing to say the two fatal words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He said it as casually as he walked inside the house. The bright green light filled up the hallway, leaving the man dead on the ground. His next target was the woman, who no doubt would be protecting the child. His footsteps were light and quick, he had no time to folly around. This kill depended on his life, his reign of power—all he had to do was kill the child and it was over. Her screams and cries helped him locate the room. He smiled as he heard her attempts to barricade the door. Did she really think she could keep him out? He forced the door open with a swift flick of his wand, spewing chairs and boxes across the room. And there she was—standing there, no wand, the child buried in her arms. He stared at the boy. He had black hair, the same black hair as the man lying dead downstairs and he had green eyes, the same as the woman standing in front of him. Voldemort became intrigued that the boy wasn't crying- as if he was unaware of what was going on. He seemed unafraid of the wizard standing before him and his mother—and it irritated Voldemort to no end. Didn't the child know he was in danger? Didn't he know that Lord Voldemort had come to kill him and his family, as he had done so many before in the past? He regained his focus as the mother put the child in his crib and held up her arms, as if to shield him from Voldemort's view. He held up his wand, warning the woman to stand out of the way, but she would not budge.

"Stand aside, you silly girl." He hissed. "Stand aside, now."

The woman shook her head and held her hands out even wider. "Not Harry, please not Harry, take me, kill me instead—"

"This is my last warning—" He was growing impatient.

"Not Harry! Please ….have mercy…have mercy…have mercy…Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything-"

He was on the verge of killing her when he heard her words. _Anything?_ He didn't lower his wand, but his gaze returned back to the small boy in the crib. He stared into his green eyes, and something sparked in his mind. A thought—no a vision. He steadied himself, trying to focus on the woman and the child before him, but eventually gave in.

 _The black silhouette of a man raising his wand to a child. The spell is cast but the child does not die. The man was now weak—he had to hide himself—no one could see his weakness. So he hides in the child—and the child must've seen him because his green eyes grew wider. And then nothing. Nothing but a lightning bolt scar on the child's forehead._

Voldemort blinked a few times, trying to understand what he had just seen. _Green eyes?_ He looked back to the small boy in the crib—he had the same green eyes. The woman was still standing in front of him—Voldemort realized he still had his wand in his hand. He pushed the vision to the back of his mind.

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" He shouted. She still refused to move, so he did what must be done. He killed her. And even then the small boy did not cry, even as his mother laid lifeless beside his crib. Voldemort walked closer, stepping over the body of the now dead woman. He aimed his wand at the small boy, relishing in the fact that he was this close to immortality. He laughed at the fact that the prophecy claimed this small boy would be able to defeat the most powerful wizard of all time. All he had to do was say the words, and it was over. He would be unstoppable. Voldemort raised his wand higher but-

 _The boy will destroy you if you try to kill him._

He gritted his teeth at the voice in his head. But he stopped to listen. Could it be true? The vision had shown what could possibly happen if he killed the boy, but what if it was a trick. Something Dumbledore created to stall him longer, or to make him change his mind? But what if it wasn't, and he lost all his power to this child in front of him? Voldemort lowered his wand, playing out his options. If he left the boy, there was no doubt Dumbledore and the rest of the Order would come for him. And if they came for him, they would teach him about the prophecy, and they would train him to fight alongside the Order. Voldemort became furious with his thoughts—none of them prevented the boy of learning of the prophecy.

 _What if you take the boy?_ The small voice said.

Voldemort replayed the words in his head and suddenly everything became clear. Take the boy. He looked down at the small child in front of him. He was now standing up, his small hands resting on the bars of the crib. He looked at Voldemort and became intrigued in the figure before him. Voldemort smiled, already thinking of the plans and possibilities for the small boy in the future. The small boy smiled as well, reaching his hands out for Voldemort to take him. The Dark Lord carefully lifted the child and disapparated on the spot.

/

"You know Voldemort has taken the boy! Yet you are unwilling to act."

"Severus."

"Padfoot has confirmed that James and….and Lily… are both dead in Godric's Hallow!"

"SEVERUS!"

Snape stopped his rant at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. He was standing before the remaining order inside of the house of Black. The news had spread quickly of the Potters' deaths—Sirius alerted everyone immediately before disappearing to find Pettigrew. It surprised everyone that Voldemort took Harry—it made them even more worried that he didn't kill him right away. What was Voldemort's plan? Snape, however, did not care for Voldemort's plan—he was set on rescuing the boy before Voldemort could even make plans, or even worse, kill the boy himself. For some reason, he felt it as if the boy was his responsibility—it was the least he could do for her.

"We are small in numbers, Severus." Dumbledore said calmly. He sat at the end of the table, his moon-shaped spectacles on the brim of his nose. "If we charge into Voldemort's defenses now, we are risking the sake of the Order as well as the boy's life."

"Then, let me go and retrieve the boy." Snape said desperately. "I don't care about the consequences, as along as the boy ends up in the right hands."

"No. We cannot give up your cover yet, Severus."

"But—"

"If Voldemort took him, he took him for a reason. I don't believe he will kill him, Severus. Otherwise, he would have done it at Godric's Hallow."

Snape didn't say anything else, all of this was too much for him to handle. The love of his life and the man who swore to protect her was dead. Their son had been taken by the Dark Lord, and here was Dumbledore allowing the child to stay in his possession. Had the world gone mental? His focus was redirected as Arthur Weasley burst through the kitchen doors. His hair was unrulier as usual and he looked as if he ran here. Snape rolled his eyes at Arthur's state.

"What now?" He snapped.

"It's Sirius….he's be taken to Azkaban,disapperated" Arthur said between breaths. "Aurors said he….killed Pettigrew…along with twelve muggles."

The others at the table gasped at Arthur's news, and Snape rolled his eyes again. Of course Black got himself in trouble with the Ministry. Another thing to add to the list of things going wrong tonight. However, Dumbledore made no reaction to the news. "Are you sure, Arthur?"

"Yes, he just went through Ministry clearance." Arthur confirmed.

Dumbledore nodded. He stood up, dismissing the meeting.

"Where are you going?" Snape snapped at the man as he grabbed his baby-blue robes.

"To pay an old friend a visit." Dumbledore then turned to Arthur. "Return to the ministry, make sure Sirius makes it safely to Azkaban." He then turned to the rest of the Order. "From this day forward, Harry Potter is dead. Any information released to the public may comprise the boy's life.

Arthur nodded. Dumbledore exited the house of black and disapparated. Snape's jaw clenched as he stared at the remaining members of the order. No one had moved from the table when Dumbledore dismissed the meeting. Everyone was grief stricken from the loss of their two beloved members. Snape banged his fist on the table, infuriated the fact that they had no ideas—no plans—nothing that could save Lily's son. He then grabbed his cloaked and pushed passed Arthur, disapparating from 12 Grimmauld Place as well.

/

Voldemort reappeared at the LeStrange's Manor, where the house elves were waiting for him. The manor was perfect to take refuge—Bellatrix was in Azkaban and Roldolphus was dead. Nobody would look for him here. He glided through the doors, saying nothing to any of the house elves, but they reacted immediately to the small child cradled in his arms. As Voldemort walked upstairs, he heard the house elves preparing the nursery. He looked down at the small boy, who had fallen asleep during the apperation. The boy looked exactly like his father, except he had his mother's eyes. His appearance meant nothing to the way Voldemort would raise him. They would never know this was Lily and James Potter's son. He would be the heir to the Dark Lord—he would have the ideals of a Death Eater embedded in him, trained to destroy people like his parents with no mercy. And when the time came, he would take Voldemort's place and continue his reign throughout the wizarding world.

Voldemort entered the nursery. The room wasn't decorated as the nursery from Godric's Hallow, but it would do at the moment. He would ask Lucius and Narcissa to contribute to the child's needs, seeing that they had their own heir on the way. He walked to the black wooden crib in the middle of the room, carefully placing the small boy inside. Voldemort stood there for a few moments before turning around and exiting the room. He went across the hall to the LeStrange's study, where he sat in a chair in front of the fireplace. He stared out the window—recollecting his past actions and the vision that came to him at Godric's Hallow. It was odd that the vision came right at the moment where he was about to kill the small child. One more second and it would've been too late, and he would have been facing the possible fate shown before him. There was a reason the vision came to him, and he could only be grateful for it.

He hadn't been sitting long when he felt the heat from the fireplace touch his neck. Someone had found his location. Seeing that he had told all of the Death Eaters to go home and evade Ministry forces, he slipped a hand into his robes, retrieving his wand. After a few seconds, he realized the person was not here to harm him, he laughed tiredly once realizing who was behind him.

"Albus." He said calmly.

"Tom." Dumbledore returned his tone. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not intentionally." Voldemort gestured to a chair beside him. "Please sit. It would be rude of me to allow you to stand there."

Voldemort didn't see Dumbledore's reaction but heard his footsteps getting closer until he reached the chair beside him and sat down. They sat in silence for a while, watching his mark take over the scenery of the clouds. Voldemort watched as the snake gracefully slithered out of the skull until it evaporated into smoke, only to do it again. Dumbledore seemed to be watching it as well, entranced in the magic Voldemort had been able to produce from a single tattoo.

"I didn't kill the boy." Voldemort finally broke the silence.

"I know."

"It wasn't for you." Voldemort said precisely. "It was for your prudent heroes who may believe otherwise. And just so you know, I do not plan to return the boy."

Dumbledore nodded. "I expected as such. I've had already told my forces that we will not strike against you for the sake of the boy's life."

"Yet, you have come here."

"I don't expect you lay out your plans for the boy to me, Tom. But you do not have the patience to teach the boy." Dumbledore turned to face Voldemort. "He may be easy to teach in his younger years, but as he grows older—the traits of his true parents will come to surface. It will become harder to train him."

Voldemort pondered Dumbledore's words. "What do you impose I do?"

"Let him attend Hogwarts."

Voldemort laughed.

"He will be able to learn the basics, gain allies for your cause as he grows older. You have already taken his parents, Tom. Don't take his childhood as well."

Voldemort turned to Dumbledore, his face unreadable. He thought through Dumbledore's reasoning. He agreed it will be difficult to train the boy once he becomes older—but allowing him to attend Hogwarts? This could be a trick for Dumbledore to teach him his true heritage. But as a parental figure, Voldemort knew the boy deserve to have a decent childhood. The boy needed people skills, to be able to apply his training to real life situations, he need his studies to expand his knowledge—Voldemort needed the boy to know the school inside and out. Just in case he needed to get inside. He finally nodded.

"I will allow the boy to attend Hogwarts, under two conditions."

"And those conditions are?"

"First," Voldemort began. "you or any of your forces may not contact the boy until he arrives at Hogwarts."

"And the second?"

"While the boy is at Hogwarts, no one- teacher, student, or staff- may reveal the boy's true heritage to him."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, before adjusting his spectacles. "Consider it done." He held out a hand for Voldemort to shake, but he refused to shake it. Dumbledore laughed and stood up.

"Sometimes Tom, I forget you are no longer that young boy I met in the orphanage. How times have changed."

Voldemort said nothing. Dumbledore walked back to the fireplace, and by the returning heat brushing against Voldemort's neck, he knew the old man had left. Voldemort rose from his seat, seeing that he had many things to do before the child woke up. He grabbed his black cloak and stood in the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder. He instructed the house elves to watch over the boy and to notify him when he woke. After his message was delivered, he mumbled the words to his location and disappeared in a band of flames.

 **My Second Attempt at a Fanfiction Story! I hope you all enjoy. Please Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	2. SS2: Breaking Barriers

You've had a landscaper and a house keeper since you were born  
The sunshine always kept you warm  
So why see the world, when you got the beach  
Don't know why see the world, when you got the beach  
The sweet life

~ Sweet Life- Frank Ocean

Chapter 2: Breaking Barriers

"STUPIFY!"

His blonde opponent was pushed into the air, landing on the field with a loud _ompf_. They had been going at it since dawn, and they refused to stop until some screamed uncle, which both of them knew would never happen. They didn't know many spells, but they knew enough to duel every morning, pushing to increase their magical skill and test out the new defense tactics they'd been taught the night before.

"Expelliarmus!" The blonde boy cried out, causing the black haired boy's wand to fly out of his hand, leaving him defenseless. The two men standing at the side of the field watched intensely, waiting patiently to see who would win the duel. The sun had merely risen, but they could see the shadows of the two boys battling it out.

"I see Draco has improved his counterattacks since last time." Voldemort said politely.

Lucius Malfoy smirked. "Nothing a little motivation can't fix. I think Tobias might need some of that motivation after this match, my Lord."

Voldemort said nothing, only smiling at the scene before him. Back on the field, Draco was approaching Tobias to send out his last spell. Tobias watched him walk closer and closer, anticipating the exact moment where Draco would be right in front of him. Lucius watched with so much anticipation, he didn't even notice that Tobias had not yet made a move to at least defend himself from Draco. He only sat there, watching his opponent walk closer and closer. Voldemort stood there, watching the scene play out.

Draco walked closer, holding his wand up to paralyze his opponent. He opened his mouth to say the words, but then…

"Petrificus Totalus!" Tobias said with a smirk. Draco froze on the spot—he had lost the duel. Lucius' mouth fell open, looking from the Dark Lord to Tobias, finally shaking his head.

"Wandless Magic?!" He spluttered out. "You taught him wandless magic?"

Voldemort nodded. "Only this spell." He said calmly. "I was afraid it wouldn't work. But he played it off very well. Don't you think, Lucius?"

Lucius said nothing but only returned his view to his still paralyzed son and the black haired boy laughing in front of him.

"Finite Incantartem." Tobias said through his laughter, and his friend was un-paralyzed. Draco was reanimated where he stood, his mouth now aching from the uncomfortable position he had been in. He lunged at the boy on the ground and they began wrestling. Tobias then pushed him off and they laid in the grass laughing at each other.

"I had you!" Draco screamed out through his laughter. "Wandless Magic?"

Tobias sat up. "Yeah." He looked towards Voldemort, who had nodded in approval. "Grandfather wasn't sure it would work, though."

"It was bloody brilliant!" Draco said through his excitement. "You have to teach me."

Tobias snorted. "And give away the only trick I know I can use against you? You wish."

Draco shook his head. "Prat."

The two boys sat there for a while, watching the sun rise over the LeStrange Manor. The fall wind had already begun to blow, and the leaves were beginning to change colors. The summer had gone by so slowly, day after day of physical training and learning basic spells. Now their training would end and they would be able to spend the next 10 months around other wizards their age—they would be going to Hogwarts. He would be able to spend his weekends with other wizarding children—playing games and hanging out instead of dueling with Draco all day. He didn't mind, though, Draco was his best friend, but he often wished they could do other things. He felt like Hogwarts would be his chance to actually have that. He knew his Grandfather would want him to focus on his studies and his training, but something down inside him wanted more. He wanted friends—he wanted to have….fun.

"Are you sure that the stone is being moved today?" Voldemort said as he continued to watch his grandson lie in the field.

"Severus has confirmed it." Lucius responded. "The Order will be taking precautions as soon as it is moved to the school."

"Perfect." Voldemort hissed. He turned around with a swish of his robes, walking away from the dueling field.

/

"Another double agent?"

Snape sat in his spot at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld place. This was the first Order meeting since the one on Halloween eleven years ago. Snape sat on the other side of Arthur Weasley, who sat next to his wife. Lupin and Tonks sat across from them. Mad-Eye sat next to Lupin—Snape still wasn't used to his new "eye" so he chose not to look at him for too long. Kingsley had just arrived, taking his place right across from Dumbledore. He had brought along a rather peculiar man with him. He was very thin with a turban on top of his head, but he looked as if he meant business and that was enough for Snape to not judge the man too much.

"This is Quirinus Quirrell," Dumbledore began. "he will be filling in as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts this year."

"Of course," Snape sneered, "that isn't his only task."

"He will also," Dumbledore continued. "be helping in defending the stone once it is moved to the school."

"When will it be moved?" Lupin asked.

"I have Hagrid set to retrieve the stone once Diagon Alley is up and bustling about." The old man responded confidently. Lupin nodded at his answer.

"And you're sure he's after it?" Arthur Weasley asked. "I mean it's so sudden, so many years of inactivity, and his first play is to go after a mere stone?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "This is not just any stone, Arthur. This stone holds the key to immortality, something Voldemort would very much want."

"And why is that?" Mad-Eye asked grudgingly. "He might as well be already counted as immortal. No one can stop him. Only the boy, and he's in his possession."

Dumbledore looked away from Mad-Eye to the stranger sitting beside Kingsley. "I think Mister Quirrell can explain it better than I can."

Quirrell nodded at Dumbledore's acknowledgment. "The Dark Lord is sick. He is growing weaker every few days. He believes the stone can restore his health, immortality is just a plus."

"And how do you know this?" Snape asked curiously, keeping his facial expression the same since Quirrell walked into the meeting.

Quirrell eyed Snape for a moment, then smirked, causing Snape's jaw to clench. "I am his doctor—it would be unprofessional for me not to know these things about my patient."

The table went quiet for a moment. Mad-Eye nodded in approval while taking a sip from his flask. He quickly closed the flask and wiped his mouth with his hand before addressing Quirrell. "And Voldemort knows you're going to work at Hogwarts?"

"Of course," Quirrell said promptly. "He believes that I am his key inside of Dumbledore's plans. He will expect me to bring news on a weekly basis—I hope you can understand Professor, for the sake of my cover."

Dumbledore nodded. "Do what you must."

"What about the boy?" Molly Weasley finally spoke up. "He will be attending Hogwarts this year, there must be something we can do."

"I'm afraid we cannot do much, Molly." Dumbledore said with a speck of disappointment in his voice. "Breaking the deal with Voldemort might risk the boy's life."

"But we can't let him believe that he is Voldemort's grandson!" Molly exclaimed. "Lily and James worked so hard against his cause, and we are disgracing their sacrifice by letting Voldemort corrupt their only child's mind!"

Arthur wrapped an arm around his wife, who was becoming more distraught by the minute. Snape finally took a deep breath and spoke up.

"The best we can do is befriend the boy- show him that he is able to trust us. Once we earn his trust, we can then focus on a way to _safely_ show him the truth."

"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore said humbly. "When the time comes, Tobias LeStrange will know the truth, but we must wait, until he can understand and he can plan around Voldemort. He will then have allies to help him and he will be skillful in his magic."

Everyone understood what the great wizard meant, but it was all so surreal. The boy was only eleven—what if they waited too late and Tobias was too far into the dark side to listen to the truth. The wizarding world depended on his triumph against Voldemort.

"This meeting is dismissed," Dumbledore said suddenly. "Some of you have children to send off the Hogwarts, and the rest of you have Ministry jobs that cannot afford your absence. So until we meet again." He then stood up and grabbed his robes, exiting the kitchen and entering the hallway. A door was opened then closed, a loud _crack_ barely heard outside the house.

/

Kings Cross was different than the manor. Way different. There were people everywhere—muggles, half-bloods, purebloods. Tobias could barely recognize the difference. He, Draco, and Mrs. Malfoy were making their way to platform 9 and ¾ to board the Hogwarts express. Tobias raised his eyebrow as he read the numbers of each platform—but was disappointed to see that there was no 9 and ¾ written on any of the signs above. Draco seemed to notice the same thing.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He grumbled. Tobias only shrugged, but noticed that Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be unbothered by the fact that none of the signs had their destination written upon it. They soon reached a plain brick wall between platforms 9 and 10. They stared at the wall, waiting for some type of magic portal to show up that will lead them to the right place, but nothing happened. The boys then looked to Mrs. Malfoy, who gave them both a motherly smile and walked towards the wall. Draco and Tobias watched, hoping that she hadn't lost her mind, but then something amazing happened. She walked through the barrier.

The two boys looked at each other before putting on an eager smile and pushing their carts towards the brick wall as well. Tobias felt a small tingle flow through his body as he went through the wall but soon forgot about it as he saw the enormous red train glittering in front of him. He looked up and read the sign above him. "Platform 9 and ¾." They had made it. Tobias became entranced by the crowd of wizards and witches before him—children saying goodbye to their parents and parents wishing their children good luck at school. The train itself was marvelous, Tobias had never seen anything like it. The trained read "Hogwarts Express" in gold writing with the school emblem on the side. He saw older students hanging out the window waving goodbye to their parents and owls flying in and out of the train. Draco nudged Tobias, guiding his attention back to Mrs. Malfoy who had been waiting for them towards the front of the train.

The two boys loaded their trunks and owls aboard the train before saying their goodbyes to her. She hugged them both, wishing them good luck in their first year at Hogwarts and told them that they will be returning for the Christmas holidays. The boys quickly nodded in understanding, their skin itching to return back to the train and begin their journey to Hogwarts. The hopped on the train just before eleven o' clock and found an empty compartment in the middle of the train. Draco laid himself out on the seat while Tobias stared out the window as the train began to move.

"I can't believe we are finally here." Draco said finally. "We're finally going to Hogwarts."

"Do you'll think we'll be put in Slytherin?" Tobias asked suddenly.

Draco snorted. "I don't just think, Tobias, I know we'll be put in Slytherin. Just look at our heritage—every single last one of our ancestors has been in Slytherin—since like- the beginning of time."

Tobias nodded. His Grandfather had told him that his mother and father were in Slytherin and that he was in the same house during his years in school. He was confident that he would be put in Slytherin, but he didn't want to let his grandfather down. His thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked on the door to their compartment and opened it. Tobias and Draco looked to see a young girl about their age standing in the doorway. She already had on her Hogwarts robes and her hair was awfully bushy. She stood there with her hands on her hips and a concerned look on her face.

"Can we help you?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." The girl said promptly. "Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has seemed to have lost his. I'm helping him find it." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Draco Malfoy." Draco said promptly, shaking the girl's hand. "And this is my best friend—"

"Tobias LeStrange." Tobias interrupted shooting a look at Draco.

"Pleasure to meet both of you." She said as she shook Tobias's hand. "So are you two willing to help?"

The two boys looked at each other and shrugged. "I guess so." Tobias said.

"Great!" Hermione said excitedly. "I'll go grab the others and we can start searching the train."

The two boys nodded and sat back down in their seats.

"Have you ever heard of that name before? Granger?" Draco asked.

"No." Tobias answered. "Maybe she's a half-blood?"

Draco shrugged. They sat in silence until Hermione returned. She was followed by two boys. One who they recognized as Neville Longbottom. Tobias could tell that Draco was trying to suppress his laughter as the dopey boy stood in front of him—barely being able to keep his robes in one piece. The second boy arrived soon after. His robes were clearly hand-me-downs and his red hair was everywhere. The freckles on his face stood out more than anything else and his wand seemed to be the only new thing he had. _Wait._ Tobias thought. _Red hair and Hand-me-down robes?_

"WEASLEY?!" Draco yelled out.

 **I will posting every day until Chapter 4, then I will start my weekly publications. This is only to get you all intrigued into the story. I hope you all are enjoying it so far! Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	3. SS3: Plans and Blood Status

You can see the truth

but it's easier to justify

what's bad is good

and I hate to be the bad guy

~ Bad Guy - Eminem

Chapter 3: Plans and Blood Status

"Malfoy?!" The Weasley boy spat. "This is who you invited to help us?!" His faced turned red, balling his fists at the two boys. Tobias had learned about the Weasleys through his grandfather. He told them they were a poor family, each child having hand-me-down robes and red hair. Tobias also knew that they were what his grandfather called "Blood Traitors" and was one of the very few pureblood families that stood against him during the first wizarding war. Tobias was never to associate himself with the Weasleys, but the red haired boy in front of him seemed harmless. Maybe his grandfather had been mistaken?

"Trust me, Weasel. You're not the only one excited about this." Draco retorted.

"Is there a problem?" Hermione asked. Neville had retreated behind her while Ron moved inside the compartment, his face still red and fist balled. Tobias reached for his wand, preparing to protect his friend if the Weasley boy tried to make a move.

"No of course not," Draco said sarcastically. "Only that you've invited a blood traitor along."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "A what?"

"Someone who sympathizes with muggle-borns." Tobias said unconsciously. Draco nodded while Ron's face turned even redder. If Tobias didn't know any better, it looked as if the boy would explode at any moment. While Draco and the Weasley boy continued their stare off, Tobias noticed that Hermione's face had completely gone pale. She no longer held the confidence she had when she first walked into their compartment. She only stood there. Tobias raised his eyebrow at the scene—something in his gut told him this girl wasn't a half-blood. But he had to put those thoughts aside as the Weasley boy lunged for Draco.

"Stupify!" Tobias whipped out his wand, producing a small stupefy spell that caused the Weasley boy to fly back out of the compartment. He bumped into Neville and the two boys fell against the other side of the train.

"Expelliarmus!" His wand escaped from his gripped. Tobias looked up to notice Hermione had also pulled her wand out. She was no longer pale-faced and looked as she did before. Tobias was impressed by her knowledge of basic magic. Maybe she was a half-blood or one of those new pureblood families his grandfather always talked about.

"That's enough!" Hermione screeched. "We didn't come here to fight. If you two don't want to help, that's fine!" She then turned on her heels and left the compartment, Neville and the Weasley boy behind her.

"Charming, Draco." Tobias said sarcastically. He sat back down by the window. "Charming."

"Piss off." Draco retorted. He plopped back down in his previous position. They didn't say anything else to each other and Hermione did not return to their compartment. Neither did Neville or the Weasley boy.

/

Voldemort sat in his study. He had been reading the prophet, looking for any news relating to the Order. Of course, he didn't find any—the Order had been inactive for the past 11 years. Voldemort was surprised that Dumbledore had convinced them all to honor their deal, especially the Weasleys. He was even more surprised when Severus told them that they had no plans to retrieve the boy—no coded messages, nothing. It seemed unlike the Order to not want to obtain their precious gem, but who was Voldemort to care?

There was a knock on the door, and Voldemort folded up his copy of the Daily Prophet and set it aside.

"Come in." He said feebly. He was becoming furious with his depleting health. It was too soon—the boy was coming of age. He still had so much to do. But a part of him would not dwell on this issues—a part of him relied on the capturing of the stone.

Quirrell stepped in. He had on his usual medical robes and he carried his brown leather bag in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at the empty vials on the study table. Voldemort rolled his eyes at them.

"Spare me, Quirrell."

His doctor let out a chuckle, setting his bag down on the table and sitting in the chair across from Voldemort. "Please excuse my reaction, my Lord. I was just surprised that you've taken your medication without my assistance."

"How was the meeting?" Voldemort chose to change the subject, not wanting to speak about his health or the many vials of medication his doctor had prescribed him.

"Informational," Quirrell said promptly as he pulled out more vials of medication out of his bag. "Dumbledore has sent the game-keeper to retrieve the stone. An act of discretion, I believe. Your arm."

Voldemort nodded as he stuck his arm out. "I've sent a few of my forces to break into the vault."

Quirrell took his wand and stuck it on his patient's arm, drawing a few drops of blood which landed in the vial beside him. "Wouldn't that draw in public attention?"

"Precisely." Voldemort said as he watched the blood travel from Quirrell's wand to the clear bottle. "To confirm to the Order that I'm coming after it."

The doctor removed his wand from the Dark Lord's arm. "The Weasley man did have his doubts."

"Weasley is nothing," Voldemort reassured him. "It's the rest of the Order I'm worried about. Sending a team to 'take' the stone will hopefully throw them off."

"You want them to believe your sickness is clouding your judgment?" The doctor raised his eyebrow at his patient. "That won't be hard."

There was silence. Quirrell performed his usual blood tests as Voldemort watched him. He watched as the red blood sat in the vial, and felt disgusted at the muggle blood that was infused with his mother's magical blood.

"They brought up Tobias." Quirrell said as he refilled Voldemort's vials with more potion.

"Any plans?"

"No, Dumbledore seems set on honoring the deal."

Voldemort nodded. The two didn't say anything else—Quirell finished his weekly check-up and left through the fireplace. Voldemort stayed in his seat. He unfolded the prophet again, his eyes glued to the story on the first page.

 **DUMBLEDORE EAGER TO GREET NEW HOGWARTS FIRST YEARS!**

"That won't stop him." Voldemort said to himself.

/

Hermione sat in her compartment, her head in a book. Neville was sitting beside her, cradling his frog in his hands. They had found it soon after the fight in Tobias's and Draco's compartment. The events of their altercation were still running through her head. The two boys had seemed nice at first until she brought along Ron—then they showered their true colors, well Draco had at least. Tobias was only protecting his friend, but it was obvious that Tobias knew Draco was wrong for the things he had said to Ron. But that wasn't what made her leave—it was the fact that she was muggle-born. Ron and Neville didn't even know, and she wasn't going to risk Tobias and Draco finding out. She shook her head, focusing back on her book. It didn't matter what they thought—she was still a witch, muggle-born or not. They had to count for something.

"Excuse me."

The three looked up to notice Tobias standing in the doorway. Ron scoffed and turned his view back to the window beside him, and Neville looked as if he was trying to hide in the cracks of the seat. Hermione, however, put her judgment aside and set her book down.

"Yes?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. Why had he come here? Especially without his friend.

Tobias stepped inside, distancing himself from Ron, but stood close enough to where he could speak to Hermione directly. "I wanted to apologize for Draco's actions in our compartment earlier. He can be…..blunt at times."

"More like a prat." Ron grumbled.

Tobias turned around to look at Ron, who had balled his fist up again. Tobias smiled. "A better word." He stuck out his hand. "I don't think I got to properly introduce myself. Tobias LeStrange."

Ron looked at his hand but finally shook it. "Ron Weasley."

Tobias nodded and turned back to Hermione. "You're skillful in magic. Were you homeschooled?"

Hermione blushed at his compliment but shook her head. "Uh no. I just got a head start in reading our school textbooks."

"All the same," Tobias smiled again. "Do you all have an idea about what house you'll be put in?"

"Most likely Gryffindor." Ron said gruffly. "My whole family has been sorted into there ever since I could remember."

Neville sat there for a moment, fumbling with his frog. "I suppose Gryffindor. Though my Gran doesn't think I have the traits for it."

The three boys then turned to Hermione who hadn't answered yet. "Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Either one is fine."

"Anything's better than Slytherin." Ron spat out.

"Interesting," Tobias said with a smirk. "That's what house I was hoping to be sorted into."

"You don't look like a Slytherin." Hermione pointed out. "Well, you don't act like one at least."

Tobias shrugged. "The art of deception. That's what my grandfather calls it."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but there was another knock on the compartment doors. An old woman pushing a trolley full of candy was standing before them. Tobias' eyes grew ten times bigger at the sight of the trolley—chocolate frogs, licorice wands, Bertie-Botts every flavored beans. He felt his mouth begin to water at the sight of it.

"Anything from the trolley dear?" The old woman called.

"No thank you." Hermione said as she returned to her book.

Neville gave the lady a sheepish smile, lifting up a brown paper bag which Tobias assumed to be his lunch. "Gran packed me something for the trip."

Ron gave the lady the same smile, holding up a smashed sandwich wrapped in plastic wrapped. "My mum did too."

Tobias looked at the two boys, who both seemed disappointed about their missed opportunity of candy. He could literally feel the galleons his grandfather had given him burning in his pocket. Hermione watched over her book at Tobias. He looked as if he felt sorry for the two boys—very un-Slytherin like.

Tobias then turned to the trolley lady, pulling out a handful of galleons that made Ron's and Neville's eyes widen with surprise. "We'll take the lot."

/

"Molly has confirmed that Tobias got on the train for Hogwarts this morning."

Dumbledore was sitting at his study, picking through an assortment of lemon drops, trying to find one that he believed would give him the most flavor. He only nodded at Snape's news.

"Is there any reason you are content on upholding this deal with the Dark Lord?"

"It would be risking the boy's life. You know this, Severus."

Snape was staring to become irritated. "But that has never stopped us before. It didn't stop Sirius from going after Pettigrew. It didn't stop Mad-Eye from sending out teams of aurors to find every single last Death Eater that night."

"Is this going somewhere, Severus?" Dumbledore said as he popped another lemon drop in his mouth.

"You have something planned," Snape said irritably. "That's why you won't let us go after the boy."

"And why, Severus," Dumbledore said slowly. "would I have something planned for an 11-year old child? That would be unproductive, wouldn't it?"

Snape banged his fist on Dumbledore's study, causing his candy to scramble out of the formation the old professor had them once in. "Don't play games with me." He said through gritted teeth.

Dumbledore looked at the man standing in front of him. "Let's not forget who has the jurisdiction here, Snape. But if you must know, I do have plans for the boy, just as Voldemort has his. The boy is vital to our cause, and it is only a matter of time before Voldemort's forces rise up again. When the boy is strong enough, I plan on telling him the truth. And we can use Voldemort's own weapon against him."

"What if your plan fails? Or the boy ends up dying?"

"Do not doubt the power of old magic, my dear friend," Dumbledore said as he popped another piece of candy in his mouth. "Only love can drive out hatred."

"And that means what?" Snape asked irritably. Dumbledore was unable to answer his question as Professor McGonagall stepped inside.

"Dumbledore, the students have just arrived."

Dumbledore nodded, rising out of his seat. He waved his hand and the lemon drops returned to their rightful place in the jar on his study. He put on his cloaked and walked out of his office, Snape and McGonagall following behind him.

 **Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	4. SS4: Welcome to Hogwarts

Did you realize?

That you were a champion

In their eyes?

~ Champion – Kanye West

Chapter 4: Welcome to Hogwarts

The boat ride to Hogwarts was enchanting for Tobias. He and Draco and a boy they knew as Theodore Nott rode in the same boat towards the colossal wizarding castle in front of them. Tobias sat in awe as the Hogwarts castle revealed itself more and more as it came into view. He ran his fingers against the water, relishing in the way it flowed smoothly through his fingers. He looked over a few boats to see Hermione, Neville, and Ron sitting together. At the front was the Hogwarts gamekeeper, a man named Hagrid, who they all had met after exiting the train. While the older years rode on carriages, first years were to travel by boat.

"I still can't believe you went to go talk to them." Draco sneered. His comment knocked Tobias out of his reverie. Draco took no time to round on him about his little visit to Hermione's compartment. Tobias merely shrugged it off, assuring to Draco they weren't bad people, and that the Hermione girl was as skillful in magic as they were. Given his points, Draco still snorted and they began another conversation about Quidditch.

Tobias returned his view back to his best friend. He shrugged. "We got off on a bad start. I didn't think it was a crime to try to make friends." Draco snorted again.

"The girl is a person of interest." The boy named Theodore spoke up. "Sorry, Theodore Nott." He stuck out both his hands, which Draco and Tobias took.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Tobias LeStrange." Tobias looked back at Hermione, who apparently was staring at him. Her eyes grew wide and she quickly turned her head back around towards Neville.

"She's very skillful in magic." Theodore went on. "Though I've never heard or even seen the name Granger throughout any of the pureblood bloodlines."

Draco shrugged. "Tobias thinks she's a half-blood."

"I'm not so sure anymore." Tobias said slowly. He was still staring at Hermione. Her back was still turned, but he couldn't help wondering why she had been staring at him in the first place.

/

On the other side of the lake, Hermione, Ron, and Neville were also captured in the structure of their new wizard school. Ron couldn't stop bragging about how his brothers told him everything he needed to know at Hogwarts, and Neville was trying his best to listen, as if Ron held the key to a perfect first-year experience. Hermione couldn't help but to listen herself. Several months ago she had been accepted to Hogwarts and was fully aware that she was a witch. She had never thought about it before—she always knew there was something…..different about her, but never had she thought she was a witch. She was so excited she read all of her school textbooks the first week she received them. She had read _Hogwarts: A History_ twice already, claiming it her favorite book.

But when she wasn't looking at Ron, she was staring at Tobias. He was sitting in a boat with Draco and another boy who she didn't know. Tobias was strange to her, if that was the right word for it. He was clearly raised in a pureblood family, hence the way he talked and carried himself. But for him to willing come to her compartment, after the fight that happened before? He made the choice to befriend a blood traitor, a muggle-born (though he didn't know she was one yet), and clumsy Neville Longbottom. If that wasn't un-Slytherin like, Hermione didn't know what was.

"And my brothers said to always stay away from the Slytherins." Ron's voice found its way into Hermione's thoughts. "They're nothing but a bunch of back-stabbing snakes."

Neville gulped. "But Tobias seems nice, and he's positive he'll be put in Slytherin. Should we not talk to him?"

Ron spoke again but was barely audible. Hermione had turned back around to look at Tobias. He did seem nice, as Neville put it, but there was something odd about him. What kind of boy as nice as him, had a friend like Draco? It wasn't until after a few seconds that Hermione realized that Tobias was staring back at her. She felt her cheeks grow red and she quickly turned back around to face Ron and Neville. Why had he been staring at her? Why had she been staring at him for so long?

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as the boats were beginning to reach the drop-off point at the castle. Hagrid's boat made it there first, and the rest followed suit. After all the first years exited their boats, they followed the game-keeper to the front doors of the castle, anticipation burning in their veins as they approached the large wooden doors of Hogwarts.

/

Dumbledore was sitting at his usual place at the High Table. On his left sat Snape, Quirrell, and Professor Sprout. On his right sat the empty seat that was to be Professor McGonagall's, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Flitwick. He watched as the older years found their way into the great hall, finding a seat with friends at their respective tables. Filch had just brought in the stool for the sorting, placing the sorting hat on top of the wooden stool.

Dumbledore was eager about this year than any other year during his reign as Headmaster. It had been eleven years—and now he was finally going to meet Harry Potter. Though he kept his excitement inside, this was something he had been looking forward to—there was no doubt the rest of the professors were eager as well. But none of them would show it, given the certain circumstances that had previously been put in place.

"Here they come." He heard Flitwick squeak from the end of the table. And he was certainly right, McGonagall pushed the great hall doors opened. The hall went silent as a large group of first years walked inside the great chamber. Dumbledore stood, watching as each first year walked towards the front until he found Tobias. He was standing beside the Malfoy heir and the boy he knew as Theodore Nott. He raised his eyebrows to also see he was standing beside who he knew to be Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom. _Strange set of friends._ He thought. A strange set indeed.

Tobias stood with the rest of the first years, eagerly waiting for the sorting to begin. He was standing in the midst of the new friends, with the exception of Draco, that he had met on the train. Draco and Ron still weren't talking to each other, but Tobias didn't think much about it. He was too busy listening to Hermione spit out facts about the castle as they walked through the great hall. As they walked down between two of the long tables, he looked up at the ceiling, amazed by the design. It looked so real, as if they were actually outside.

"It's bewitched to like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." Hermione whispered.

Tobias nodded. He had to give it to her, she'd done her research. With all his summer training, Tobias hadn't thought once to open one of his school textbooks, yet read it. They walked closer and closer to the front of the hall, where a stool with a brown, dusty hat was waiting for them.

"There it is." He heard Draco whisper excitedly. "The sorting hat."

Indeed it was. They all gathered around the hat. For a few nerve-wrecking moments, the hat was completely silent. And so was the great hall. No one said anything—you could literally hear the silence in the room. But then the hat twitched, and the brim of the hat opened. Tobias raised an eyebrow at the hat as it broke into a song.

 _"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me."_

Draco groaned. "Do we really have to listen to this?"

Tobias had to admit. The hat song was a little much, but he didn't mind. A singing hat, that was different. He watched as Ron was also dreading the hat's song. Neville only stood there, Tobias guessed he was trying to think of a way not to embarrass himself during the sorting. Theodore seemed out of it, Tobias was sure that he probably didn't even hear the song. And then there was Hermione, who listened intently to the song as if she had heard nothing like it in her whole life. He made a mental note to ask her why she was staring at him during the boat ride earlier.

The song ended some minutes later and the whole hall stood up, bursting into applause. The hat bowed to the students sitting before him and went silent once more. The woman they had met after leaving the boats, Professor McGonagall, cleared her throat, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment from her robes.

"When I call your name," She said rather loudly. "you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Granger, Hermione!"

Tobias, Theodore, Draco, Neville, and Ron all watched as Hermione practically ran to the stool.

"Mental, that one." Draco and Ron said in unison, before snapping their heads at each other. Tobias simply shook his head, sending a message that this wasn't the time.

They watched as Hermione jammed the hat on top of her head. Nobody had time to even breathe as the hat screamed out "GRYFFINDOR!" and the table on the right stood up and cheered, whooped, and clapped as Hermione made her way to what Tobias realized was the Gryffindor table.

"Nott, Theodore."

"SLYTHERIN!"

A table on the far end on the hall then erupted with cheers and hollers as Theodore made his way to what was obviously the Slytherin table.

"Malfoy, Draco."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco hopped down, sending a smirk towards Tobias as he made his way towards the table, finding a seat beside Theodore.

Ron was next, and as he predicted, he was put in Gryffindor. Tobias watched as he walked over to sit by a clan of other redheads, which Tobias assumed to be his brothers. There were two boys who were obviously twins and another boy who seemed way older and wore a set of circular spectacles. Neville was after Ron. He barely made it to the stool before he tripped on his robes, causing a roar of laughter to be heard from the Slytherin table. Tobias had to hold in a laugh himself—Neville was his friend. Tobias was surprised when Neville was sorted into Gryffindor—maybe the hat saw something in him that his grandmother didn't.

"LeStrange, Tobias."

The High Table watched eagerly as Tobias approached the sorting hat. Dumbledore was relieved to see that Voldemort had not opted to change the boy's physical features. He looked exactly like James, and he had Lily's eyes. He didn't wear glasses, as they all expected he would—probably a feature altered by Voldemort himself. But nonetheless, he looked exactly as they all expected he would. Snape couldn't keep his eyes off of him—a part of him resented him because of his resemblance to his late school enemy, but his eyes reminded him of her, and that was enough for him. Quirrell was intrigued by the boy—this was the proposed "dead" Harry Potter, the chosen one, living among them as the Heir of the Dark Lord. He chuckled softly at the thought.

Tobias slammed the hat on his head, hoping his sorting would be as quick as the rest of his friends. But after a few moments, the hat was still silent. Tobias became worried. Something was wrong.

"Difficult." The hat said. "Very Difficult. Many traits of a Slytherin, yes. But many traits of Gryffindor as well. You destiny screams one but your heritage screams another. Which one to choose?"

 _"Just put me in Slytherin."_ Tobias thought to himself, embarrassed that he was up here this long already.

"Slytherin, eh?" The hat spoke again. "You have chosen your fate. SLYTHERIN!"

Tobias let out the breath he had been holding and eagerly made his way to the Slytherin table to sit beside Theodore and Draco. He looked over and found Hermione, Ron, and Neville, who all gave him a thumbs up for getting into the house he wanted.

Dumbledore then stood up, holding up his hands to cease the noise echoing throughout the hall. He was smiling at all of the students, happy to be seeing a new year at Hogwarts.

"Welcome!" he shouted. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

He sat back down, and the great hall once again erupted in applause. Tobias didn't know whether to be confused or worried.

"Oh Merlin," Draco said while putting his face in his hands. "We have a nutter for a Headmaster."

Theodore chuckled. "I think he's creative."

As soon as Theodore spoke, a plethora of dishes appeared on the table. Each dish held a different entre'—roast beef, chicken, potatoes, boiled and roasted, peas, carrots, the list went on. Tobias felt like he was right back at home, grabbing any and everything he could get his hands on and putting it on his plate. Draco and Theodore had done the same, and they stuffed their mouths until their bellies screamed uncle. Tobias was thinking about grabbing another piece of chicken when he felt a cold breeze brush his neck. He shivered and looked up, his eyes meeting a terrifying ghost. His eyes were blank and his robes were stained with silver blood.

"The Bloody Baron." Theodore whispered. "Try not to stare too much."

Tobias nodded and quickly averted his eyes from the ghost. He turned to look at the members of the High Table. He recognized Dumbledore from the chocolate frog wizarding cards he collected and Quirell, who he knew was his grandfather's doctor. There was man beside Quirell who he didn't recognize. He had greasy black hair and his skin was almost as pale as Draco's.

"Who's the teacher next to Quirrell?" He asked, never removing his stare from the teacher.

"Snape." Draco said as he stuffed another piece of chicken in his mouth. "He works for your grandfather, but he doesn't really stop by much. My father says he has a very important mission that requires him to be out all the time."

Draco reached for another piece of cake, but as soon as his hand touched the table, all the dishes disappeared. Tobias heard him curse under his breath, but ignored it as Dumbledore stood up again. The great hall grew silent once more.

"I have a few more announcements before we separate to our respective houses. First, first years should note that the forest on the grounds of the castle is forbidden. Second, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

Draco snorted, while Theodore held a smirk on his face that told Tobias that they would be some of the few who would not follow these rules.

"Quidditch trials will be held during the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing should see Madam Hooch." There was another pause.

"Finally, I would like to make it known that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is restricted to everyone who would not wish to die a very painful death."

Tobias was barely bothered by this statement. There was nothing in this castle that his grandfather hadn't prepared him for. Draco seemed to feel the same way, because he went to fumble with the hems of his robes. Theodore looked unbothered as well. Tobias looked across the table to notice that Ron's face had completely gone pale, and Neville was silently fretting in his seat. Hermione, however, seemed unbothered by the fact.

 _"At least someone has their head."_ Tobias thought.

/

The trip to the Slytherin common room was a long one. Whose great idea was it to put a common room, a place where people slept, down by the dungeons in the castle? However, it didn't feel any different from the hallways of LeStrange Manor. Long and cold they were indeed. The longer you walked, the darker it got. They finally reached a portrait of what looked like the ghost Tobias had seen earlier in the great hall.

The prefect in front of him said the words "Pure-Blood" and informed the first years that this was the password to get inside the common room and that they should never share their password with any other house. The portrait then swung forward and the first years crawled through, stopping at the sight of the great room in front of them. The common room was dark, lit by a few fireplaces here and there and several rays of green light shining through the windows. The couches and chairs were made of black leather and the rug was Slytherin green, with the house animal—a snake, plastered on the front.

The boys went upstairs to find their rooms. Tobias was pleased that he, Draco, and Theodore were sharing a room along with two boys who introduced themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. Tobias and Theodore didn't really care much for the boys, but Draco seemed to take a liking to them—seeing that they were a pair of imbeciles who didn't know a hippogriff from a dragon. While Draco went downstairs to continue his conversation with his new cronies, Tobias plopped down on his bed, laying back on his new bed. He noticed Theodore did the same.

"Not your ideal style of living, but it's enough, right?"

"Huh?" Tobias said sitting up.

"You know," Theodore kept his casual tone. "You being You-Know-Who's grandson and all, I bet your bed is bigger than all five of these combined."

Tobias chuckled and laid back down. "Not exactly." That's all he said. It was true, his bed wasn't that big, but it was big enough. To be honest, Tobias liked Hogwarts better than he did home. It was the atmosphere, the idea of being around other wizards his age. He was alone at LeStrange Manor, except the times when Draco came over. Here it felt different, like he was finally where he belonged. He laid there, pointing out the similarities and differences between Hogwarts and the Manor. After a while, he heard Theodore snoring and soon rolled over on his side and fell asleep as well. His dreams were filled with possible scenarios for his first day of school and a particular dream that had been occurring for months now. A bright green light, a woman screaming, a man in a black cloak.

 **A strange set of friends indeed. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	5. SS5: A Strange Set

And I wanted it, I wanted it bad

But there were so many red flags

Now another one bites the dust

Yeah, let's be clear, I'll trust no one

~ Elastic Heart - Sia

Chapter 5: A Strange Set

The next morning was the beginning of the student's next ten months of wizarding education. Tobias and Draco were up and about, being used to waking up at earlier times than these, while Theodore, Crabbe, and Goyle barely moved a muscle. Somehow, however, Theodore got washed up and dressed in time to walk down with the two for breakfast.

The great hall was completely different from yesterday—it was utter chaos. Owls were swooping in and out of the doors and Head of Houses were walking down their tables, passing out school schedules. He watched as students groaned and praised their schedules while trading them with the people beside them. Tobias spotted Hermione, who was reading over her schedule, and then Ron, who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon, and then Neville, who was holding a glass ball in his hand. Tobias watched as the once gray smoke in the ball turned red and soon realized it was a remberball.

The three Slytherin boys made their way to their house table and found a seat close to where that sat last night. They began to cover their plate with eggs and bacon when three girls sat in front of them. They introduced themselves as Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Daphne Greengrass, though Tobias remembered their names being called last night for the sorting. He elbowed Theodore when he heard him snort "Some names" through a mouthful of porridge, causing the three girls to look their way. Draco relished in the fact that they were sitting before these three pureblood girls, though Millicent had a body shape that resembled a smaller version of Hagrid—Tobias almost threw up his breakfast at the way she batted her eyes at him.

"Nott. Malfoy. LeStrange." Snape said casually as he passed them their school schedules. Each boy took them with ease and read over their newly received parchment. Once looking over their own, they switched schedules—Tobias passing his to Draco, Draco passing his to Theodore, and Theodore passing his to Tobias. They made the switch one more time before finally feeling satisfied with their classes.

"Well the good news is," Draco said while grabbing more pieces of bacon. "We have all our classes together."

"And with the Gryffindors." Theodore added in.

Tobias nodded, having seen the irregularity on all of his friend's schedules. Draco, however, must've overlooked this fact, because he almost choked on his orange juice. "What?!"

Theodore set down his schedule on the table, pointing to the class names printed on the parchment. "Look."

 _Double Potions with Gryffindor_

 _Double Charms with Gryffindor_

 _Double Herbology with Gryffindor_

 _Double Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor_

Draco let his head fall against the table. "Salazar, why do you hate us so?"

Tobias laughed at his best friend's attempt at grief. He looked back down at his own schedule but suddenly realized it was no longer there. He looked up to see that the girl named Pansy had taken his schedule and was comparing it to hers.

"Look girls!" She squealed. Daphne and Millicent stretched their necks to look at Pansy's and Tobias's schedules. She then looked up to the three boys sitting in front of her, handing Tobias back his own schedule. "We all have the same classes, too." She said with a smile. Tobias returned her smile, but soon regretted it because now she wouldn't stop looking him.

/

"Why are all our classes with the Slytherins?!" Ron groaned. He had been complaining out their double classes with the Slytherins ever since Professor McGonagall placed the schedule in his hand. Hermione had no doubt that was probably the first thing he read on the paper.

"At least we all have the same classes." Neville said feebly. He was still holding his remberball in his hand, the smoke had turned red ages ago, and he still couldn't figure out what he had forgotten.

It was oddly soothing that all three of them had the same classes, and that all three had the same classes with Slytherin. Hermione looked across the great hall, noticing that Tobias, Draco, and the boy named Theodore were discovering the same thing. She couldn't see their expressions because of the three girls sitting in front of them. She saw one of the girls take Tobias's schedule and soon squealed about how they had the same classes. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back around. _Pathetic._ She thought.

"Out of all the houses we could've gotten paired up with—Slytherin?!" Ron groaned again. "Someone kill me now."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Honestly, Ronald, it shouldn't be that bad."

"Says the know-it-all." He grumbled.

Hermione narrowed his eyes at him, but couldn't help but feel hurt by his words. Neville could tell she was hurt, but only gave her a feebly smile. Hermione returned his smile, but opted to continue her breakfast in silence while Ron continued his Slytherin rant.

"You better watch your mouth, Weasley." She heard a voice snap, and immediately recognized it as Draco Malfoy's. "You might get bitten by a snake."

Hermione lifted her head up to see Tobias, Draco, and Theodore sitting at their table. She automatically became aware of the whispers and sharp looks of the older students at the group. But the three Slytherin boys didn't seem to care, so why should she?

Ron's face immediately went scarlet red, opening his mouth to retort Draco's comment, but Tobias beat him to it, effectively changing the subject.

"We came over to see if your schedules were the same as ours." He said casually. He traded his schedule with Hermione, and they both looked over it. They then handed them back to their respectful owners.

"The same." Hermione said promptly.

"The exact same." Tobias added in.

They all sat there, looking over their schedules once again. Something wasn't right. It was like someone wanted the six to be together. But why? And why these six? The heir of the Dark Lord, the Malfoy Heir, the Prince of Nott, the muggle-born, the blood traitor, and the klutz.

"Is there any reason why you have chosen to keep them together?" Snape said casually as he and Dumbledore watched the group from the High table.

"You sound skeptical, Severus." Dumbledore said playfully.

Snape's jaw clenched at his words, but kept his eyes on the group of first years. "They are completely different people from completely different backgrounds. They have nothing in common except that they attend the same school."

"Exactly." Dumbledore responded. "That is why I put them together. They will make up for each other's weaknesses, and empower each other's strengths. They don't know it yet, but they will be the greatest set of wizards of their time."

"The boys will revert to their heritage as they get older." Snape said disappointedly. "And they will leave the other three behind. What will you do when that day comes?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I have faith in them, Severus. As I have faith in you. But if all fails, like you believe it will, you can be the one to say 'I told you so.'"

"Odd isn't it?" Theodore said unexpectedly. "All six of us have the same classes. At the exact same time and the exact same place—this doesn't bother any of you?"

"Yes!" Draco and Ron said in unison. They snapped their heads at each other, glaring daggers in each other's eyes.

"Are you two going to do that every time you say something at the same time?" Tobias asked irritably.

"NO!" Once again in unison, and once again glaring at each other. Hermione giggled while Tobias shook his head. "Nevermind."

"I'm not bothered by it." Hermione said.

Theodore shrugged. "Unbothered."

"Same." Tobias then eyed Neville, who was trying to focus more on the eggs on his plate. "Neville?"

Neville dropped his fork, apparently startled that they asked for his opinion. "Uh well…..I rather not decide."

"Come on, Longbottom." Draco pressed on.

Ron nodded. "Look at him. He doesn't want to decide because he doesn't want to see the look on your faces when he says yes."

"Actually," Neville spoke a little louder. "I'm not bothered by it at all."

Ron and Draco groaned, while the rest laughed at their disappointment. Tobias and Hermione talked about their classes. Theodore once again seemed out of it, and Neville was still trying to figure what he had forgotten.

/

Double Potions wasn't bad, well at least for the Slytherins. Draco, Tobias, and Theodore had earned the Slytherins 30 points towards their house, while their Gryffindor companions lost 50 towards theirs. Snape was a good teacher, he was just house-biased. They saw Ron's face turn red for the fourth time that day, and Hermione looked as if she was about to burst into tears at any second. Neville was clumsier than Tobias had ever seen him, knocking over his whole table's cauldrons in the span of 10 seconds. While the rest of the Slytherins laughed at Snape's condescending comments at the three Gryffindors, Tobias, Draco, and Theodore tried their best to help them without disrespecting their head of house. Tobias tried his best to level the tension, agreeing with whatever Hermione said or correcting what Neville meant, Draco was trying to distract the crowd by using some of his own witty comments, and Theodore had no problem correcting Snape when he was being unreasonable—which almost cost them all the points they just received. They tried their best, but Snape was head of Slytherin House. They couldn't do much without bearing consequences.

Charms was easier, way easier. Their teacher was Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw Head of House. He was a short man- a very short man. Draco couldn't stop laughing at the fact that he had to stand on a pile of books just to be at eye level with the rest of the class. Theodore found it rather amusing as well, trying to figure out how the little man did things that was easy for people of average height. Flitwick called roll, and stumbled a little over Tobias's name, which he and everyone else found strange.

Next, was History of Magic which had to be the worst class ever created for a magical boarding school. To begin, their Professor was a ghost.

"Tell me this is a joke." Draco whispered.

"This is a joke." Theodore said amusingly as they watched their very old and transparent Professor float to his seat in front of the class.

He introduced himself as Professor Binns and began roll call. He didn't stutter or stumble over Tobias's name, which was a relief. After roll call, everything else was a blur. Binns began lecturing and it felt like he was talking for an eternity. Ron had fallen asleep, Draco and Theodore has resulted to playing Tic-Tac-Toe, Tobias could barely stay awake himself, Neville was trying his best to take notes, and Hermione seemed to have no problem—writing every single word that came out of Binns's mouth.

Tobias took that time to analyze her. Her blood heritage was still a mystery. He had never heard of the name Granger, and she seemed too….off, to be a half-blood. To be honest, he didn't know anything about her. Not as much as he knew about Ron, Theodore, Draco, and Neville. They had all came from well-known wizarding families, yet Hermione Granger seemed to come from this far away land no one's ever heard of. She was intelligent and knew her magic, she had to be of some magical heritage. Hermione was a mystery to him. A mystery that he was willing to solve.

Lunch was around noon, and once again the six sat together near the end of the Gryffindor table. The first couple minutes of lunch was silent, everyone was piling food on top of their plate and eating away happily. After they all ate, they began to talk about today and their classes. Hermione seemed extremely eager about this conversation.

"I think we should start a study group." She said excitedly.

"No." Draco shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"For once I agree with Malfoy." Ron said with a mouth full of food.

Hermione ignored the two. "Tobias?"

While Tobias whole-heartedly agreed with Ron and Draco, he couldn't but feel this was his chance to find out more about Hermione. He had come to Hogwarts to make friends—which he did—but to keep those friends, it seemed he was going to have to give into their favorite past times. Unfortunately, Hermione's was reading books and doing homework.

"I think a study group wouldn't be bad." Tobias finally said, causing a bright smile to appear across Hermione's face. Draco banged his head against the table while Ron's mouth fell open. Tobias ignored the two's reaction and turned to Neville and Theodore. "What about you two?"

Theodore shrugged. "Anything that'll help me get my homework done."

Neville contemplated for a moment before finally answering. "I think it'll be fun. Just the six of us, right?"

"Just us six." Tobias assured him.

Draco snorted. "Five."

"Four." Ron grumbled.

/

 **GRINGOTT'S BREAK IN LATEST!**

Mad-Eye had thrown the paper onto the kitchen table of Grimmauld place. Mad-Eye had called an emergency meeting that night, but given the last minute notice only Lupin, Arthur, and Snape were able to be present. Everyone had already heard the news, so Lupin didn't bother grabbing the paper, neither did Arthur. Snape stood at the door, watching as the three men sat there, apparently waiting for Dumbledore to say something. After a few moments of silence, however, Lupin was the first to speak up.

"I don't—I don't understand." He picked up the paper and began to reread over the article. "I thought Voldemort _knew_ we would be moving the stone. That's why we set up defenses at Hogwarts. That's why we have Quirrell."

"Seems like your new Double Agent isn't doing his job, Dumbledore." Mad-Eye said gruffly.

"If Voldemort doesn't know the stone is at the school, we should lower the defenses—direct his attention elsewhere, perhaps." Arthur suggested.

Dumbledore sat there, his hands intertwined together as he took in his fellow Order member's statements. Something was indeed odd here. What was Voldemort playing at? There was no doubt that Quirrell told the Dark Lord that the stone was moved yesterday, yet he still chose to break into Gringotts. Did he not trust Quirrell? Or was he just too arrogant to listen?

"What do you think, Severus?" He turned to the pale man standing at the door. Snape watched as the eyes of everyone at the table fell upon him. They obviously didn't see that this was Voldemort's plan to throw them off, but seeing as this was Mad-Eye, Lupin, and Weasley, he had no patience to explain it to them.

"It would be foolish to drop the defenses." Snape began.

"But—" Arthur tried to interrupt, but Dumbledore gracefully held up his hand, stopping him from speaking any more.

"It would also be foolish to assume the Dark Lord is not aware that the stone is at the school. Whether Quirrell told him or not, it is still our responsibility to assure that it does not fall into his hands."

"Are you saying we can't trust Quirrell?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow at Snape.

"I'm saying we cannot make rash decisions from a newspaper article." Snape sneered. "Clearly, you would agree with me, Lupin—the way they slander _your kind_ every other day on the front page. Yet, here you are, instead of rotting in Azkaban."

Lupin's jaw clenched at Snape's words. He didn't say anything else, but only sat there, staring at Snape with a wolfish glint in his eyes. Snape tried to hold his stare the best he could, but eventually became uneasy from Lupin's glare. He turned his view back to Dumbledore, who had yet to say anything on the matter.

"I agree with Severus." He said calmly.

"Ok, we keep the defenses up. But what about Quirrell?" Mad-Eye asked while pulling his flask from his side pocket.

"I trust Quirrell." Dumbledore went on. "If he didn't tell Voldemort, I'm sure he did it for a reason. Nevertheless, Severus and I will be at the Hogwarts watching him."

Mad-Eye grunted in approval, while Lupin simply nodded. Arthur kept opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to protest, but in the end gave up. If Dumbledore trusted Quirrell, then there was nothing for them to worry about. But questions still filled the air as the five men stood in the kitchen. What was Quirrell playing at?

/

"My name is Quirinus Quirrell, but you all will refer to me as Professor Quirrell and Professor Quirrell only. Is that understood?"

It was the second day of school, and the six were starting off their day with Defense Against the Dark Arts. This was the class that everyone was looking forward to—learning new spells, defense tactics, learning about dark creatures and other dark magic. And with their professor being as serious as Professor Quirrell, there was no doubt that they would be learning some fascinating magic in this class.

Quirrell watched as the class of Gryffindors and Slytherins nodded at his words. He then called roll, looking to each and every student as he said their name. After roll call, he decided to start the class a little different from the other Defense Against the Dark Arts classes he had watched before taking his position. He pulled out yesterday's copy of the Daily Prophet and set it upon his desk. He watched as all the children gave him confused looks, and simply smirked as he waved his wand, causing the words and pictures to lift up from the parchment and enlarge itself where everyone could see. The set up was exactly how it had been on the Prophet, it was just bigger now.

Tobias read the contents of the article. Someone had broken into Gringotts, but why?

"Who's dumb enough to break into Gringotts?" He heard Draco whisper beside him. "And what the bloody is the Philosopher's Stone?

Tobias shrugged. Whatever it was, it was so valuable that someone took the risk of breaking into the wizarding bank just to get it.

Quirrell then turned back to the class. "Would anyone like to read the title of this article? Yes, Miss Granger."

"Gringotts's Break In Latest." Hermione said promptly.

Quirrell nodded. "Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor. Can another student tell me what Gringotts is?"

Another Gryffindor known as Seamus Finnegan raised his hand to answer this question. "Yes, Mister Finnegan."

"Gringotts is the wizarding bank." Seamus answered.

"Excellent." Quirrell said with excitement. "Another five points to Gryffindor. Now you all are probably wondering," His voice rose a little higher, and it was obvious he was trying to imitate the voice of a small child. "I thought we were supposed to learning about dark arts, not how to read the Daily Prophet."

"Merlin, he just read my mind." Theodore said sarcastically. "It's like he's a wizard or something."

Tobias and Draco laughed at Theodore's comment. Quirrell didn't seem to notice the boys' laughter though, because he continued his speech as normal.

"Behind every news article is a series of dark magic seeping from the pages of the prophet. It is up to your own wit and intellect to discover the clues to find out what really happened. Over the next ten months, you all will be divided into groups of six. Your project is to research a certain topic, which I will give to you, and to thoroughly discuss the ways dark magic can be used or manipulated in your area of study. This project will count as your final grade—and don't worry, classes will continue as normal, which may influence some of your groups' research."

Hermione felt her excitement rise as Professor Quirrell went into detail about their project. Their project required research, which meant going to the library, and going to the library meant reading books. Hermione couldn't wait to tear into the Hogwarts' collection of books on dark magic. And they had the whole school year to do it, she almost squealed at the thought of endless research.

Ron felt himself slowly dying in the inside. Project? He barely could keep up with the homework that was being thrown at them, and it was the second day of school! He put his head in his hands and prayed to Merlin that his group had an easy topic.

Neville was nervous about the project. The only six people he was comfortable being around was Hermione, Draco, Tobias, Ron, and Theodore—and here was the chance that he might be split from them and be forced to interact with another set of students. He could feel his nervousness boiling in his stomach—what if he ruined the project? Or made some careless mistake?

Theodore was unmoved by the idea of being in a group. Yes, he would prefer being in a group with Draco, Tobias, and the three Gryffindors, but it didn't matter—as long as the work got done. He would do his part, and his part only, and make sure the project was up to par with Quirrell's expectations. Even though he didn't seem like the type to be a perfectionist, a Nott never turned in mediocre work. Never.

Draco was starting to regret his choice of coming to Hogwarts. The second day of school, and this bloke decides to give them a group project. Of course he would do no work, he was the Malfoy Heir—he didn't have to _do_ anything if he didn't want to. He put his hands behind his head as he daydreamed his group working at his leisure, having no problem with doing his part and still putting his name on the project. _Piece of cake._ He thought.

Tobias was interested in this project. Well not the actual project itself, who gave a group project on the second day of school? But the topic of the project—a break in a Gringotts. His grandfather had told him that whoever chose to break into Gringotts were fools, unless they did it correctly. Tobias knew there were tons of dark magic and spells behind this break in, but it was odd that all that work was for nothing. The Philosopher's Stone, whatever that was, wasn't there. Why would someone break into an empty vault? And that's what peaked his interest into the project.

"And now the groups." Quirrell said. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began to call out the three groups of six he had laid out.

"Group 1. Parkinson, Finnegan, Crabbe, Thomas, Patil, and Greengrass. Your topic will be Gringotts Bank."

There were a few groans and whines from the students who names were just called, but Quirrell ignored them. He moved on to the next group.

"Group 2. Goyle, Zabini, Bulstrode, Thomas, Brown, and Vane. Your topic will be Vault Security."

There were more groans, but as the first group, Quirrell ignored them. There was only one group left, and the six seemed to know who would be in this group.

"You've got to be kidding me." Draco said as he looked around at the six who had not been called yet. He felt his dream of doing nothing fade away as his eyes swept over Granger. Tobias found it rather funny, but something strange was going on, something strange indeed. Hermione felt her excitement falter as she realized the names who had not been called yet, Neville seemed strangely relieved, and Ron laid his head down on the desk. Theodore, however, had covered his mouth with his robes to hide his uncontrollable laughter at the predicament.

"And finally, Group 3. "Granger, Malfoy, LeStrange, Weasley, Longbottom, and Nott. Your topic will be the Philosopher's Stone."

"The world's gone mental." Hermione heard Ron grumble.

 **Weekly Publications will be every Sunday (or at least I will try to make it every Sunday.) I also apologize for any grammatical errors, my grammarly wasn't working correctly. Follow, fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	6. SS6: Cerberus

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I know i said i would be doing weekly updates on Sunday, but seeing that i'm really excited about this story, I couldn't wait until Sunday. So I will be returning to my usually Wednesday and Sunday posts (Or two chapters a week)! So here we are Chapter 6 of Taken.**

After all I knew it had to be

Something to do with you

I really don't mind what happens now and then

As long as you'll be my friend at the end

~ Kryptonite – 3 Doors Down

Chapter 6: Cerberus

Hermione sat in the library, getting a head start on her homework. Despite her request on starting a study group, she hadn't told any of the boys she was going. Honestly, she needed a break before they all had to join up for their group project. It had already been two weeks, and they hadn't set a date on when to begin. She huffed in an attempt to blow her hair out of her face, but it failed. All her excitement about the DADA project had went away once she realized who was in her group. Not that she had a problem with any of the boys—it was how they reacted to her. Ron always seemed to have some derogatory comment to say about her, Draco barely paid her any attention, Theodore always seemed in his own world, and Neville was too shy for his own good. Tobias was the only one who seemed to appreciate her being there, but even his company was awkward. There were times where she would catch him staring at her, as if he was trying to analyze her very being. Even the times where she would catch him, he wouldn't remove his stare or he would simply return to his work like he hadn't been doing anything at all.

"Any reason why you're in the library all by yourself?"

Hermione raised her head at the familiar voice. _Great._ She gave Tobias a half-smile and returned back to her work, which she realized she hadn't even put a dent in because of her previous thoughts. Tobias didn't say anything but invited himself to sit in the seat beside her. He pulled out a transfiguration book and a piece of parchment. Hermione assumed he was beginning on the essay Professor McGonagall gave them today. She smirked to herself, seeing as she finished that essay hours ago.

She returned to her Potion's work, checking and double checking her assignment to make sure it was absolutely perfect. Of course it wouldn't be for Snape, seeing that he always found some petty flaw in her work. But she could barely focus as she felt a pair of eyes burning a hole into her skin. She hesitated to look at the dark-haired boy beside her, knowing that his green eyes would be staring right back at her, but instead decided to address him on the matter instead of showing her discomfort.

"You're doing it again." She said casually, trying to focus on her work.

Her voice knocked Tobias out of his train of thoughts. He was indeed doing it again, but he wouldn't give himself away too easily, so he decided to play dumb. "Doing what?"

"Staring at me." She replied. "You've been doing it ever since I've met you." She then set her quill down, and turned to face him, a fiery glint in her eyes. "And I want to know why."

"You're a muggle-born aren't you?" Tobias asked the question unconsciously, and immediately wanted to take the question back as her saw Hermione's face turn the sickly pale it did on the train a few weeks ago. She stood there dumbfounded, not by what he asked, but how he asked it. Instead of the disgust she expected to hear, his voice sounded more as a person of interest. Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. This was the reason he had been staring at her for the past two weeks? Why did it matter if she was muggle-born or not?

"Forgive me, if I made you uncomfortable." Tobias said with his usual pureblood politeness. "But it's true, isn't it? You're a muggle-born."

Hermione paused for a moment, debating if she could trust the Slytherin, but finally gave in. Though Tobias was the only friend she had, and that's if she could even call him a friend, lying about her blood status wasn't worth a friend—especially a Slytherin one. "Yes." She replied confidently. She then snatched her arm out of Tobias's hold. "Is that a problem?" She snapped.

"No!" Tobias said quickly, not being used to Hermione being snappy. "I don't care that you're muggle-born, Hermione, despite my heritage. I actually think it's rather impressive." He then gave her a smile—the same smile she remembered from the train, when he bought candy for Ron and Neville. She eased up a bit at the sincerity in his tone.

"Most wizarding children are homeschooled for years to learn basic magic, and yet you learned from reading our school textbooks—in like what? A month?"

"A week actually." Hermione said promptly. Tobias laughed and they continue their work until Madam Pince kicked them out the library. Tobias had offered to walk her back to the Gryffindor common room and as they walked, Hermione couldn't help but wonder how Tobias figured out she was muggle-born. It was bound to come out soon enough, but she had planned to tell the group herself, and here he came figuring it out on his own.

"So how did you find out? About me being—you know?" She asked shyly.

"Well it wasn't easy at first." Tobias said slowly, as if he was trying to gather his thoughts. "Your knowledge on Hogwarts and basic magic threw me off—it made me think that you had to have a magical relative somewhere. But then you started to stick too much to the book."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"You stick to the book, in everything you say. It sounds word for word. Unlike Ron, who refers to his brother's words or Draco, who refers to his father's. Even Theodore and Neville have their own way of saying things, but you say everything based on the book. Only someone who has been recently introduced to magic would do that."

Hermione was impressed by his observation. She hadn't even noticed she said everything word for word from the books she read. "And you figured all that out, from staring at me?"

Tobias shrugged. "Pretty much. My grandfather always told me it's wise to learn about a person through observation. You learn more."

"Your grandfather teaches you a lot."

Tobias smiled at the mention of his grandfather. "He's taught me everything I know. Since I was a baby." His smile then fell. "He's the only family I have left. My mother's in Azkaban and my father died before I was born."

Hermione felt her heart drop at his words. "That's horrible."

Tobias shrugged again. "Could be worse. I think this is your stop."

Hermione turned her attention back to their path, and realized that they were standing in front of the Gryffindor portrait. The fat lady looked at the two, before blowing a raspberry at Tobias.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow then." He then turned around and walked down the magical staircase. Hermione watched him for a while, before finally turning around and saying the password to get inside the Gryffindor common room.

/

Draco had been particularly excited about today's classes. Reason number one being that today was Friday and reason number two being he only had one class—Flying Lessons with Madam Hooch. An hour and a half devoted to just flying on a broom, and to Draco's satisfaction, it was a lovely day outside—the ideal setting for broomstick flying. The sun shone through the castle windows as he, Tobias, and Theodore made their way to the flying field. There wasn't a cloud in sight and the temperature was just right—not too hot, but no too cold either. As they walked onto the field, Draco noticed that a few students were already outside, standing beside a broom that had already been laid out by Madam Hooch. Tobias led them to where Hermione, Ron, and Neville were standing, and took their places beside the three Gryffindors.

When all the students were positioned by a broom, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and began the lesson. She didn't look as old as the other professors, but she wasn't as young either. She wore black robes and her hair was white and spikey. The way she walked down the middle of the students was intimidating—she walked fast, talked fast, and never missed a beat in giving her instructions. If anything, this made Draco even more excited.

"Broomstick flying is a very serious matter, no matter how fun it may be." She began. "You will do what I say, when I say it, and how I say it—is that understood? There will be no foolish broomstick flying unless you want to spend the rest of school year in detention. Any questions?"

Draco watched as Neville raised his hand, his arm quivering in fear. Fortunately for Draco, Madam Hooch didn't see Neville's hand and continued on with the lesson.

"The first thing you need to know about flying is how to summon your broom." She then sat her broom on the ground and held her hand over it. "Hold your hand over your broom like so, and say 'up.'" At the word, Madam Hooch's broom snapped up into her grip while the children watched in awe.

Draco and Tobias's broom immediately snapped into their hands, Tobias being remotely surprised because he had never touched a broom in his life. His grandfather told him that LeStrange's were horrible fliers and he was paranoid that Tobias may have adopted the horrible flying traits as well. Hermione was having difficulty getting hers up, no matter how hard or how many times she said "up," her broom wouldn't budge. But seeing as it was Hermione, Draco knew she wasn't the one to give up. Theodore had barely said the word and his broom snapped into his grip as if it couldn't wait to feel the inside of his hand. Ron had achieved the goal on his third attempt, but was disgruntled by the fact that his broom smacked him on the forehead when it snapped up instead of landing in his hand. Neville stood there watching everyone either succeed or fail with their brooms, before building up some courage to finally say "up," and to his surprise his broom snapped into his hand.

"Next," Madam Hooch said once everyone had their brooms in their hands. "you will board your broom, like so." She lifted her left leg and set it on the other side of the broom, now holding it with both hands as it sat between her legs.

Everyone did as Madam Hooch instructed, patiently waiting for the moment where they would actually be flying. Draco, who was becoming bored by Madam Hooch's lesson, had the urge to kick himself off the ground and fly around this whole school. Even if it got him a year's worth of detention, it would be better than sitting here listening to this amateur lesson.

"Now, you will kick off the ground, like so." Madam Hooch gently kicked off the ground, only hovering a few feet over the grass. "And hover a few feet over the ground."

Draco took no time to kick off the ground and hover at the same height as Madam Hooch. Tobias watched Draco, and then did the same, becoming excited about the control he had over the broom—it felt natural. Theodore lazily kicked off the ground, but nonetheless hovered as instructed. Ron seemed to kick the ground too hard and shot up in the air, but soon gained control and returned to the instructed height. Hermione looked as if she would pass out at any moment, and the boys soon realized she was scared of heights, but were oddly impressed as she kept her composure.

"Mister Longbottom, that's too high!" They heard Madam Hooch scream. The five looked to see that Neville was flying way higher than what was instructed, and what was worse is that he couldn't control his broom. They watched as he flew in zig-zags and loop-de-loops across the field before he finally fell of the broom and landed at the end of the field. Madam Hooch then waved her wand and everybody's broom returned to the ground, causing a few students to groan in disappointment. She ran over to Neville, who was still laying on the ground, and helped him get up.

"Oh Merlin, broken wrist." She tutted. She then walked him over to the rest of the class. "I will be escorting Mister Longbottom to the hospital wing. No one is to fly on any of these brooms until I get back, or else you'll be kicked out of here faster than you can say Quidditch." She then walked back into the castle with Neville.

Once she left, the remaining five heard a laugh coming from a group of slytherins. The tan skinned boy they knew as Blaise Zabini was at the center of the group. The five walked closer, Tobias and Draco in front, to see what all the laughter was about. Tobias noticed that Zabini was holding a glass ball in his hand, red smoke dancing in the inside—Neville's remberball.

"Did you see his face?" Zabini said in mid-laughter. "Maybe if he was holding this, he would've remembered to fall on his fat arse." The group of Slytherins around him laughed. Tobias then stepped in the circle, placing himself right in front of Zabini.

"I don't think that belongs to you, Blaise." Tobias said. He held out his hand. "If you know what's good for you, you would give it back."

"Is that a challenge, LeStrange?" Blaise asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, it's a threat." Draco stepped in. "Give the ball _back_ , this is your final warning."

Everyone had stopped talking and laughing to watch the scene taking place. Zabini held the ball, tossing it gently in his hand. He looked at the two boys before a nasty grin appeared on his face.

"I would give it back." He said snobbishly, "But seeing as it doesn't belong to either of you, I think it's only fair that I return it to its proper owner."

"This is not going to end well." Theodore whispered to Hermione.

"So I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find—how about…." He looked around trying to find the perfect spot. "On the roof?"

"Here we go." Theodore said as Draco lunged for Zabini, but was too late. Blaise had jumped on his broomstick and flown high over the field. Tobias was surprised that Blaise could fly well, but that was beside the point. Draco tossed Tobias a broom, and they boarded it, ready to fly into the air. The two boys were ready to kick off before Hermione grabbed their robes, redirecting their attention.

" _No!"_ she shouted. "You heard Madam Hooch, if you fly, you'll get in trouble."

"And let Zabini punk us?" Draco snapped back.

Tobias ignored her, snatching his robes from her grip and kicking off into the air. Draco then appeared by his side. They whipped their brooms around to face Zabini, who was now accompanied by Goyle. Tobias gave no time for Zabini to say another word as he lunged towards him, missing the remberball by an inch as Zabini shifted his broom to the left. Tobias whipped his broom back around, but Zabini was no longer holding the remberball. He watched as Draco chased Golye across the field, the glass ball in his grip. Tobias zoomed towards Golye, hoping to catch him off guard so he could snatch the ball back. Zabini was behind him, but Tobias was already too far ahead. He sped towards Golye, who noticed him at the last minute and dropped the remberball, laughing as it fell towards the ground. Tobias aimed the broom downward and flew towards the ball. He felt the wind blowing in his face and the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had to admit, this feeling was _wonderful._ He pushed forward, causing the broom to pick up speed. He caught the ball just before it reached the ground and snatched his broom back up before he crashed. He heard cheers and Ron's and Theodore's whoops below him, but it wasn't over yet. Zabini was speeding toward him.

"Draco, catch!" He screamed out and threw the ball to his best friend, who caught it. Zabini snarled but returned to the ground with Golye, but Draco and Tobias paid them no mind as they relished in the fact that they caught the remberball.

"TOBIAS LESTRANGE!"

"DRACO MALFOY!"

The smiles on the boys' faces immediately fell as they saw Madam Hooch and Professor Snape walking onto the field below them.

"Idiots." Hermione said, causing Theodore to snicker as the two boys slowly returned back to the ground.

Flying lessons ended early because of Tobias's and Draco's little stunt, at least that's what Madam Hooch called it. Nobody blamed them, seeing that it was Zabini who started the whole thing in the first place. But that didn't matter as the two boys sat in their Head of House's office, awaiting their inevitable punishment.

"But professor it wasn't our fault—"

"Zabini took Neville's remberball and we—"

"SILENCE!" Snape screamed. He couldn't hear himself think over the two boys' rants. Of course the son of James Potter would take no time to find himself in a predicament like this, and Malfoy with his morals and values would be right along with him. The two boys grew silent before him, not even daring to say another word.

"I don't care whose fault it was. You two are lucky to not be expelled right now." He snapped. "Madam Hooch made herself very clear when she said to not fly on the brooms, yet you two deliberately disobeyed her!"

Tobias and Draco hung their heads down in shame. There was no doubt Snape would deduct points from their house for their behavior. And the consequences—with Snape being their head of house—they were not looking forward to that.

"Because of your actions, instead of being expelled, you will attend detention every Thursday with the groundskeeper Hagrid from the moment your classes are finished until dinner. And do not think I am not aware of your schedules!"

The two boys nodded, understanding their punishment. Snape stared at them both with a hard look in his eyes, but soon softened his expression before the two Slytherins.

"However," The two boys' heads snapped up at the word, "because of your flying skills, Madam Hooch has opted to put you on the Slytherin Quidditch team—LeStrange as seeker, and Malfoy as a chaser. You are to meet with the Slytherin captain next Friday, if and only if, you are on your best behavior. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" The two boys said eagerly. This was amazing. First years weren't even allowed to try out for the house Quidditch teams, but here was Tobias and Draco, being given a spot. Tobias felt the excitement rise inside of him. Given the circumstances, this actually turned out to be a very productive Friday. Snape then dismissed them both and they literally ran out of his office. Snape rolled his eyes as he watched the two boys nearly fall in an attempt to fit through the door together.

/

Next Thursday came and Tobias and Draco had been on their best behavior, though they literally an owl feather away from hexing Zabini into next year. But they held it in, looking forward to their meeting with the Quidditch captain tomorrow. Ron had been baffled when they told the other four what had happened in Snape's office.

"So let me get this straight," Ron said in disbelief. "Snape gives you detention, and a spot on the Quidditch team?"

"That's what we said, Weasley." Draco snapped back.

Ron ignored him. "But first years aren't even allowed to try out!"

"Maybe you should try picking a fight with Zabini." Theodore pointed out. "That seemed to work out for them."

"Either way," Hermione butted in. "It was foolish for the both of you to even go after Zabini, you could've gotten expelled."

"But we didn't." Tobias said with a smirk. "We haven't even spoken to Zabini since last week."

"Though he's been asking for it." Draco said through gritted teeth. "He even challenged us to a duel later tonight, and we can't even bloody show up or will lose our spots on the team."

Ron and Theodore looked at each other, and both realized they were thinking the same thing. "What if we go for you?" Theodore suggested.

Draco scoffed. "So Zabini can think we're a bunch of blokes that can't fight our own battles?"

"Well seeing as you can't go anyway," Ron added in, a teasing smile appearing over his lips. "Zabini will think that regardless."

Tobias and Draco looked at each other, and then back at Ron and Theodore. Their offer was tempting, Tobias thought, but what if they got in trouble? But then again they had suggested it, and he needed someone to put Zabini in his place.

"Okay, fine." He said. "But Hermione has to go with you."

Theodore shrugged, while Ron yelled out a big NO. "She can't come! She'll ruin everything!"

"I will not!" Hermione yelled back.

"Granger's magic is up to par with me and Tobias's. Even if she isn't dueling, she'll be able to help you both." Draco reasoned. Hermione turn towards him, surprised that he agreed that she should go along with them, but Ron still protested.

"I rather take Neville." He pouted.

Tobias raised his eyebrow at him. "Really?" They then all turned to look at Neville, who somehow succeeded in spilling pumpkin juice all over his robes.

"Hey Longbottom!" Draco called out.

He looked up, and his eyes grew five times bigger when he noticed everyone was staring at him. "Y—yeah?"

"How would you like to go duel Blaise Zabini with Ron and Theodore tonight?"

"B-battle?" He gulped. "Uh I—I—I don't know guys." They could all tell that he wasn't up for it, the way he played with his robes and he kept shaking his head. Tobias, Draco, Hermione, and Theodore all turned back to look back at Ron, who huffed in defeat.

"Fine." He groaned.

"Then it's settled." Tobias said as he rose from the great hall table. "See you three after detention."

Draco nodded to the other four and followed Tobias out of the castle. Once stepping outside, they began their journey to Hagrid's hut. The sky was an orangey-red as the day changed to evening and the October wind blew the boys hair back as they walked down the hill to Hagrid's. As the hut came into view, Tobias noticed that it was bigger, way bigger than what a normal hut should to look like. But he then remembered that Hagrid was a very tall and large man, seeing that his door was at least the same size as two regular doors stacked on top of each other.

They walked up the steps, and before Tobias could even put his fist to the door, it swung open and there stood the large man known as Hagrid. Tobias noticed he was very hairy—he had a brown furry beard and brown bushy hair that was even bushier than Hermione's, if that was possible. He wore brown pants, working boots, and a what-used-to-be white long-sleeve shirt with a brown vest over it.

"Well hello, ther'." Hagrid said, looking down at the two Slytherins. "You must be Tobias and Draco." His voice wasn't hard and gruff like Tobias thought it would be. Instead it was friendly, but still a little gruff. He stepped aside, and Tobias and Draco took that as an invitation for them to walk inside.

Hagrid's hut was….cluttered, if that was the appropriate word for it. There was stuff everywhere—pots and pans, blankets, animal furs. Tobias wondered how Hagrid lived in all this mess. They finally made their way to the table, a spot that had the least clutter. The two boys sat down and gave each other a look. Tobias recognized Draco's as being completely disgusted with Hagrid's way of living and Draco recognized Tobias's as his "it could be worse" face. Hagrid shut the door and made his way to sit in the chair in front of them. He then pulled out three metal cups and a jug of water and set it on the table.

"Would you two lik' sumthing to drink?" He asked while pouring himself a glass a water.

"No thank you." Draco tried to say as polite as he could, but Tobias could hear the discomfort in his voice.

"I would like some water, thank you." Tobias said, and Hagrid nodded and poured him a cup of water. After he finished pouring it, he slid the cup across the table and began to drink out of his own. He put the cup down and spoke to the two again.

"My name is Rubeus Hagrid. But you can call me Hagrid, or Mister Hagrid."

"I think I'll stick to Hagrid." Tobias said politely. "If that's alright with you."

Hagrid could barely hold in his excitement—or his tears. He hadn't seen Harry since he was a baby, eleven years ago. And even then it was from a picture that Lily and James had sent him on his 1st birthday. He was happy to see that he grew into a polite young man, but it disturbed him that he acted the same way Voldemort did during his time at Hogwarts. The staff never thought that the polite and honest Tom Riddle would've turned out to be Lord Voldemort. And to be honest, it was unreal that the boy sitting in front of him was Harry Potter, but it was.

"Hagrid is just fine." He said with a smile. "So how did you two end up in detention?"

"Zabini." Draco muttered.

"Who?"

"Nobody." Tobias said quickly. "We were just trying to help out a friend, and things took a wrong turn."

Hagrid stared hard at the boy, but finally shrugged. "Well if was to help out a friend, the trouble's worth it."

Tobias only nodded, and Hagrid felt something lift in his heart. Voldemort was never the one to get in trouble for his friends. This was James living through Tobias—the trouble maker, the one defending his friends. Maybe Dumbledore was right, Hagrid thought.

Tobias couldn't help be feel comfortable around Hagrid—it was just something about him. He wasn't like the rest of the professors—who would've lectured him and Draco to no end about what happened last week. But Hagrid seemed to accept it—encourage it. And for that, Tobias was grateful.

/

The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, like they should be at midnight. But the silence did not last long as the sound of frantic footsteps grew louder and louder.

"They stood us up! I can't believe they stood us up!" Ron yelled angrily.

"I don't think we should be worried about that now seeing as were being chased by a cat!" Theodore yelled back.

Hermione, Ron, and Theodore had arrived on the third floor where they were supposed to meet Zabini. Nobody was there at first, and the three assumed they had gotten there early, or that Zabini was late. After a few minutes, they then felt like they were in the wrong place and began to walk down the corridors, looking for the tan-skinned Slytherin. After thirty minutes of searching and no Zabini, the three soon realized they had been stood up. But when they finally deciding to walk back to their respective common rooms, they ran into someone, though it was not who they expected it to be- or wanted it to be.

They had ran into Peeves, the poltergeist.

No matter how hard they pleaded or begged, Peeves wouldn't stop shouting, his goal to wake up every teacher in the castle. If that didn't make things worse, Filch's cat showed up and they could hear Filch's voice down the hall. So they did the sensible thing—they ran. They didn't know where they were running to, but anywhere far away from Peeves, Filch's cat, and Filch was fine with them.

"This way!" Hermione yelled out. She had spotted a door on the right hand side of the corridor and ran towards it, Ron and Theodore right behind her. They opened the door and ran inside, running past pillars and old statues before they reached another door. Ron tugged on the handle, but it was no use.

"It's locked!" He whispered.

"And we've been found." Theodore said. All three turned to see the shadow of Filch's cat walking inside the room. They had to do something before Filch caught up. If Filch caught them, they would be in a boatload of trouble, and that was something that could not happen.

"Move!" Hermione whispered. She took out her wand and pointed it at the door. "Alohomora!" The once locked door then unlocked itself, a soft _click_ being heard in confirmation, and the three ran inside. Theodore watched through the crack of the door as Filch and his cat walked inside, Filch scowling to himself one he realized they weren't there. The caretaker and his cat then left the room. Theodore sighed with relief and closed the door.

"Filch is gone." He said, but didn't get an answer back from his two Gryffindor companions. He turned around and soon realized why they had gone silent. He felt his heart stop as he took in the sight of what stood before them. "Oh, Cerberus."

/

For the first time since Quirrell assigned the project, the six finally decided to meet up in the library to begin. But even as there sat there for the hour they had, the Philosopher's Stone was nowhere near the topic of discussion. Instead, the group discussed the discovery Hermione, Ron, and Theodore made that of the midnight duel.

"What do they think they're doing?!" Ron said irritably. "Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?!"

"Ron, be quiet. Someone might hear you." Hermione snapped.

Ron scoffed at her. "Like someone will believe that we saw a three headed dog. It's _Halloween_ , Hermione! Everybody says creepy stuff like this on Halloween."

"Actually, the three-headed dog is a new one." Theodore cut in. "It's usually ghosts and witches—goblins and ghouls, that type of thing."

"Three-headed dog?" Neville said worriedly. "In the school?"

"Honestly, Longbottom. Where have you been for the last ten minutes?" Draco said as he lazily flipped through a book.

"That's not the point." Tobias finally spoke. "Hermione, you said it was standing on top of something, what was it?"

"It was like a trapdoor or something." She replied. "Like it was guarding something."

"What's so bloody valuable in the school that they need something like that to guard it?!" Ron yelled again.

"That's what we're going to find out." Tobias said. The whole group looked at him as if he was mad, but Ron was the only one who expressed his opinion on the matter.

"Excuse me?!" Ron spluttered, sticking a finger in his ear like he was pretending to clean it out. "I don't think I heard you correctly. You want to find out what the beast is _guarding_?"

"Oooo adventure." Theodore said in a sing-song manner.

While Ron and Tobias continued their debate about the trap-door, Hermione decided to do some work on the project. Though it was only October, it seemed as the group would be "busy" due to other things. She noticed Draco had also opted to work on the project, writing down notes from one of the books she found on magic stones. She was still disappointed that she couldn't find at least one book on the Philosopher's Stone, but she wouldn't give up. In the background, she could still hear Ron complaining about Tobias's plan, his tone becoming more irritated by the second.

Charms was even worse. Ron was still irritable from their session in the library and the fact he couldn't get his feather to levitate only made it worse. Hermione tried to ignore him the best she could, but then he reverted to beating the feather with his wand and she was beginning to feel urge to transfigure him into one.

"Ron! Ron!" She shouted before she finally caught his attention. "You're saying it wrong. It's _Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa_ , not Levi-o-sar."

Ron threw down his wand. "You do it then, if you're so clever."

"Fine." Hermione turned her nose up to him and held her wand ever so gracefully before casting the spell. " _Wingardium Leviosa_." Her feather then rose above the desk a few feet before slowly falling back down. She heard Professor Flitwick squeal at her accomplishment.

"Look everyone, Miss Granger has done it."

Theodore, Tobias, and Draco watched as Hermione floated her feather. They also saw Ron's face turn that deep shade of red they knew meant he would be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. And he didn't save any time to express his anger at lunch after class.

"Who does she think she is?!" He said to the four boys. His voice then rose higher, as if to match the voice of a girl. "It's _levi-o-sa_ , not levi-o-sar."

"She was only trying to help you." Tobias reasoned, trying to not anger Ron any further.

"She thinks she knows everything!"

"Uh, Ronald." Theodore tried to catch Ron's attention, but he wouldn't listen.

"It's no wonder she has no friends!"

"Ron." Neville said nervously as he realized why Theodore was trying to get his attention. Tobias and Draco then turned around and Tobias felt his stomach twist and he wasn't even the one who was in trouble.

"She's a nightmare!"

"WEASLEY!" Draco finally yelled, successfully knocking Ron out of his rant. Ron then looked to see where everyone was looking, and suddenly wanted to take back every word he had just said.

Hermione was standing before them, tears in her eyes. She had heard everything Ron said. Tobias wanted to say something, but she quickly turned and ran out of the great hall.

"You're quite the charmer, Ronald." Theodore said sarcastically. "Quite the charmer indeed."

"Shut up, Theodore." Ron grumbled.

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	7. SS7: Halloween

I shoot the lights out

Hide 'til it's bright out

Whoa, just another lonely night

Are you willing to sacrifice your life?

~ Monster – Kanye West

Chapter 7: Halloween

The boys didn't see Hermione for the rest of the day. She didn't show up for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Where's Miss Granger?" Professor Quirrell asked as he looked down at the empty seat at the front of the class. The five boys looked nervously from one another, trying to think of an excuse to why Hermione wasn't there.

"She's sick." Theodore said innocently.

She didn't show up for Transfiguration.

"Miss Granger?" McGonagall repeated herself after Hermione did not respond to roll call. She looked up to notice that Hermione's seat was empty. She looked among the class, in hopes she would find her star student. "Has anyone seen Miss Granger?"

Nobody said anything, and the boys seemed to be content on saying that she was sick, that was until Theodore raised his hand.

"She broke her arm." He said just as innocently as the first time.

"Broke her arm?" McGonagall said worriedly.

"Yes ma'am." Theodore continued to lie, "Fell right down the staircases, all a hundred and twelve of them."

She didn't show up for Charms.

"Is Miss Granger sick?" Flitwick asked, disappointment in his voice seeing that he would have to deal with all the students alone.

"Hardly sick." Theodore lied again. "She's having lady problems."

"Lady Problems?" Flitwick seemed confused.

"Can somebody shut him up?" Ron growled.

"Yes, my mother has them and trust me they are not pretty." He explained. "She has these things that she has to put up—"

"Alright!" Flitwick squeaked in horror. "That's enough Mister Nott."

And Hermione didn't show up for potions, which was rather careless on her part.

"So Miss Granger decided not to show up?" Snape sneered.

Theodore raised his hand. "Would you like to know where she is, Professor?"

"No." Snape said bluntly. "Nor do I care. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"For what?!" Ron yelled out.

Snape snapped his head towards the red haired boy. "For being a Weasley." He sneered. "And another five points for questioning my authority."

It was dinner time, and the boys still had no idea where Hermione was. They had all decided to split up after classes to find her, but each boy returned without the bushy-haired Gryffindor. All them were sitting at the table—all of them except Neville, however.

"Do you think he might've gotten lost?" Ron asked, looking down at the empty spot where Neville usually sat at dinner.

"Sounds possible." Theodore said nonchalantly.

Draco groaned loudly. "Great. Now we've lost Granger and Longbottom."

"Maybe he's found Hermione." Tobias said.

"I doubt it." Theodore said bluntly. "He can't even remember what he's forgotten, no way he found a whole missing girl."

Tobias didn't say anything else, Theodore had a point. But now they didn't know where Neville or Hermione were. What if something happened?

The great hall doors burst opened, causing the whole room to go silent and turn towards the doors. The chatter soon resumed as everyone noticed it was just Neville. He ran towards the end of the Gryffindor table, his heart thumping against his chest and his breathing was rapid. His face was red, and you could see the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You….guys. I….found….I found…" He spluttered between breaths.

"Spit it out, Longbottom!" Draco had become impatient with Neville's fatigue.

"I…found…Hermione." He finally got out, he then let out a sigh and sat down at the table.

"Where?!" Ron asked urgently.

"Girls….Bathroom." Neville said feebly. "Girls said she's been in there all afternoon, crying."

Everyone had turned to look at Ron, who looked as if he was a sheep being preyed on by a pack of wolves. Draco glared at him the hardest, but then turned back to Neville as something click in his head.

"Longbottom?"

"Yeah." Neville responded as the color returned to his face.

"You ran all the way over here to tell us you found Hermione?"

"Yeah." Neville answered, unaware of Draco's angle.

Draco nodded. "So…..WHY DIDN'T YOU GO GET HER?!"

Neville sat there, finally realizing how completely useless his actions were. He had figured out where Hermione was, and yet he came back without her. He scratched the back of his neck, uncertain what to say to the blonde Slytherin.

"Aw, don't get your knickers in a twist." Theodore rose from the table, dusting his robes off. "I'll go get her. I'm afraid if Neville gets up again he might die from cardiac arrest."

"From what?" Ron asked with a frown on his face, unfamiliar with the words Theodore just said.

But Theodore only shrugged. "I don't know. Saw it in a movie." And he walked out of great hall, leaving Ron dumbfounded and the rest of the boys awfully confused.

"A movie?" Ron said to the rest of the boys, who all shrugged.

/

"He wants it tonight?!" Arthur Weasley yelled.

Because it was Halloween, the Order had agreed to meet up at Hogwarts for their meeting. McGonagall suggested the idea because students usually played the worst of pranks Halloween night. And luckily for them, they all needed to be in the castle tonight, whether it was the spooky holiday or not.

"Yes." Quirrell confirmed. "Voldemort wants me to take the stone tonight."

Snape sat back in his seat, becoming strangely amused by everyone's dishevelment. "And what is your plan, Professor? Seeing that sole mission is to prevent the Dark Lord from getting the stone."

Snape watched as Arthur Weasley flinched as he referred to Voldemort as the "Dark Lord," but Snape ignored him. He kept his focus on Quirrell, who seemed to have gone silent at his question.

"I will be planning to take the stone tonight, but I will fail." Quirrell made sure to say those last four words carefully. "I will need you all's full participation if we want to succeed in deceiving Voldemort tonight."

Snape bit the inside of his mouth, irritated by Quirrell's sense of preparation. But nevertheless, he had a plan.

Dumbledore nodded. "What do you need us to do?"

Quirrell smirked at his words, clearing his throat and the explaining to the teachers his grand Halloween plan.

/

Hermione was sitting in the bathroom. She had chosen the very last stall so that she wouldn't draw in so much attention. She had finally stopped crying, wiping away the final tears from her eyes. She couldn't believe Ron had said those things about her, but then again she could. Ron had never liked her, and he finally showed his true colors today at lunch. It didn't matter if she was muggle-born or not, Ron was right—nobody in their right minds would want to be her friend. She was a know-it-all. She was a _nightmare._ She felt the tears starting up all over again, but then she heard someone enter the bathroom and quickly wiped them away again.

"Hermione?" She heard a voice say.

"Go away!" She called out. But the person did not leave, yet she could hear their footsteps walking closer and closer to the stall she was in. She pulled out her wand, prepared to defend herself if need be.

"I said go away!"

There was a silence. She then saw the feet of whoever it was at the bottom of the stall. She gripped her wand tighter, but nothing happened.

"Is that any way to treat the boy who willingly walked into the girl's lavatory just to find you?"

Her brow furrowed as she recognized the voice. "Theodore?"

"Well I hope you weren't expecting Malfoy."

Hermione let out a small laugh. She opened the door, and there indeed was Theodore Nott waiting outside for her. He was sitting on top of one of the sinks, his feet swinging lazily in the air.

"Ah, there she is." He said with a smile. "I should hex you, but I don't know any curses. So I'm forced lecture you like my mother does." He then frowned his face up, his voice mocking that of a woman. "Hermione! How dare you run away like that? You had us worried sick!"

Hermione laughed again. "Your mother really says that?"

"Merlin, I wish." Theodore shook his head. "But you did have us worried there, Hermione. You even had Ronald on edge."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words Theodore just said. "Ron was worried? About me?"

"Of course he was," He responded as if it was the obvious answer. "We're friends. That's what friends do. We argue and then we worry about each other later. It's perfectly normal."

"I could hardly call that an argument." Hermione said sadly. "The things he said about me. Friends don't say things like that to each other."

Theodore's smile then went away. "Well yes, what he said was unkind. But I don't think he meant it."

"How do you know?"

Theodore chuckled. "Did you not see the look on his face when he noticed you were there? He's lucky you didn't hex him into next week."

Hermione stood there for a moment, taking in Theodore's words. He said they were friends. _Friends._ They had all been looking for her, worried about her.

"Now tell me," Theodore asked with a strange sense of interest. He looked around the bathroom and finally landed back to Hermione. "What's so interesting in here that makes girls stay in here for hours?"

/

The Halloween feast had begun, and what a feast it was. Tobias couldn't remember the last time he had seen so much candy spread out on a table like this. Even the desserts were overwhelming—pudding, treacle tart, ice cream, cake. It was Halloween Heaven. He watched as Ron stuffed himself silly, constantly filling his plate up with more treats as he put more into his mouth. Neville had made the mistake of eating too much too fast, and was starting to turn a sickly green color. Draco was eating everything he could get his hands on, shoving some of it in his robes for later. Ron and Tobias seemed to find his strategy very useful and began to shove candy and treats into their robe pockets as well. So far, this was the best Halloween ever.

The great hall doors burst opened again, and all the boys turned, expecting to see Theodore and Hermione, but instead met the eyes of a horrified Professor Quirrell.

"TROLLLLLLL!" He screamed out. "TROLLLLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" He then fell out in the middle of the hall. The four boys looked at each other and began screaming, along with the rest of the students in the great hall. Tobias looked to notice all the teachers had stood up and rushed to Quirrell's side. All except Professor Snape, who walked swiftly out of the great hall- seeming unbothered by the news. _Where is he going?_ Tobias thought.

The chaos in the great hall intensified. Prefects were trying to calm students, while first years seemed scared for their lives. Some of the older Slytherins took this opportunity to throw candy at each other, causing an argument between them and the Hufflepuffs.

"SILENCE!" A voiced boomed, causing everyone to freeze in their motions. Dumbledore had reached his podium and the Great Hall grew silent.

"House Prefects will escort everyone back to their common rooms. No one is allowed in the corridors until tomorrow. The rest of the Professors will follow me to the dungeons."

As the prefects stood up and began to escort the students out of the great hall, a thought clicked in Tobias's mind. _Hermione and Theodore._

"We can't go back to our common rooms." He said desperately.

"You're joking?" Ron said.

Draco stepped in. "Mate, I know it's Halloween and all. But in case you've forgotten, THERE IS A BLOODY TROLL ON THE LOOSE!"

Tobias shook his head in frustration. "But Hermione and Theodore don't know about it. They're still in the bathroom."

"What if they got out?" Neville said sheepishly.

"We sent _Theodore_ in there to get her!" Tobias groaned. "Do you really think they left?!"

"Point taken." Draco said. "Let's go."

They ran down the corridor, distancing themselves farther and farther away from the rest of the students. Tobias was in the front, Draco behind him, Ron and then Neville. As they hit the corner, Tobias suddenly stopped, causing the other three boys to bump into him, causing them all to fall.

"Tobias, what the bloody—"

"Shh." Tobias said quickly. "Look."

The four boys watched as the monster walked down the corridor. It carried a wooden club in its hand and was at ten times bigger than Hagrid, and Hagrid was a big guy. The troll was gray and ugly and it had bumps everywhere.

"Look where it's going." Ron whispered.

They watched as the Troll walked inside one of the corridor bathrooms. Tobias suddenly felt like a rock just landed in the pit of his stomach.

"That's the girls' bathroom isn't it?" Tobias said nervously.

"Yup." Draco replied.

"Neville please tell me there is another bathroom on this floor."

Neville gulped. "There isn't."

"So the troll….is in the bathroom…with Hermione…and Theodore?"

"Yup." Ron said dryly.

The boys suddenly scrambled to their feet. They all ran towards the bathroom, well at least three of them did.

"Longbottom!" Draco called. "Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?"

"To get the Professors!" Neville called back.

"No! Neville, No!" Draco tried to stop him, but Neville was already out of reach. "Aw, bloody hell."

Draco, Ron, and Tobias ran as fast as they could to the bathroom, bursting through the door just in time. Hermione was hiding under one of the bathroom sinks, and Tobias felt half of the rock dissolve in his stomach. But where was Theodore?

"Glad you three could make it!" They heard a voice scream.

The three boys looked up to see Theodore hanging for dear life from the Troll's head. The troll was swinging his head rapidly, as well as his club, in attempt to swing off Theodore and whack the bushy-haired Gryffindor. The troll looked even bigger compared to the size of the bathroom, and the other three just stood there, lost in the size of it.

"Don't just stand there!" Hermione screamed out. "Help us!"

The three boys whipped out their wands, but what spell to use? While the two Slytherins were trying to debate which spell would be the most effective, Ron decided to act.

" _Wingardium Leviosa."_ The club then rose out of the trolls grip, causing the creature to make a few steps forwards, hands out looking for his weapon. Ron rose the club over the troll's head, preparing to make the drop.

"On the count of three, I need you to jump off the Troll!" Ron called out.

"Are you mad?!" Theodore yelled back.

"Just do it!" Tobias snapped. He then looked to Draco. "When Ron drops the club, stupefy him!"

"One."

Draco looked confused. "My spell won't be enough to knock him over."

"Two."

"But two of the same spells will." Tobias assured him. Draco gulped, then nodded. He gripped his wand harder, preparing to send the spell.

Theodore prepared himself to jump off the troll. "Oh Merlin, if you get me out of this one, I promise I will never go to the girls' bathroom again."

"THREE!"

Theodore jumped off the Troll, landing on the floor beside Hermione. Ron released the spell, causing the club to land on the trolls head.

"STUPEFY!" Draco and Tobias said at the same time, their combined spells causing enough force to knock the troll backwards into the bathroom wall. It then fell forward, laid out on his stomach across the floor. Hermione and Theodore then rushed over to stand by the other three boys. They all then looked at the troll.

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so." Tobias answered. "We should leave before—"

"What happened in here?!"

The five whipped around to see Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway, Neville at her side. She was soon followed by Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell. Draco and Tobias felt their heart stop as Snape glared at them from his post behind McGonagall. Theodore had stepped up to the three teachers.

"You see," He said trying to think of a lie. "It's a really funny story Professor. We—"

"It was my fault." Hermione interrupted. Everyone turned to look at her- Tobias, Ron, and Draco in the most surprise.

"Miss Granger?!" Professor McGonagall said in disbelief.

"I had read about trolls, and I thought I could handle this one on my own."

Tobias couldn't believe what was happening. Hermione Granger—good and honest Hermione Granger—was telling a lie to a teacher? To keep them out of trouble? Especially Ron—who caused her to be in the bathroom in the first place.

"Theodore tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't listen." She continued. "If it hadn't been for Tobias, Draco, and Ron, I would be dead by now. And if it hadn't been for Neville, none of you would've known."

Ron's mouth fell opened, but Draco nudged him before any of the teachers could see. This was a downright lie, but they couldn't take it back now.

"And this is what happened?" Professor Snape asked.

The other four boys nodded, hoping to seem as if this story wasn't new to them.

"Well, in that case." Professor McGonagall said slowly. "Miss Granger, how could you possibly believe you could take down a monster like that?!"

Hermione didn't say anything. The other four boys were speechless—it was really as if the world had gone mental.

"Five points will be taken from Gryffindor. I am extremely disappointed in you, Miss Granger." She then looked to Ron." If you two are not hurt, you will need to return to Gryffindor Tower." She then turned to Snape. "I assume you will want to deal with your own house?"

Snape nodded. Professor McGonagall then left, along with Neville, Ron, and Hermione. Professor Quirrell left soon after, casting apologetic smiles at the three boys. Tobias felt his palms sweating as the three Slytherins were now left with Snape. The first Quidditch game was tomorrow, and they chose a perfect time to get in trouble.

"I find it awfully strange that you three, Slytherins at heart, stepped out of the way to aid a Gryffindor, nonetheless Miss Granger." Snape said.

"Trust me, you're not the only one Professor." Theodore scratched the back of his head, trying to ease the tension.

"Are we in trouble?" Draco asked.

Snape looked between the three boys. "No, you three are not in trouble. But I expect you all to make better decisions." He then paused. "Next time, you won't be so lucky."

The three boys nodded. Snape then dismissed Theodore, claiming he had something to give to Tobias and Draco. Theodore waved goodbye, and the two Slytherins followed their Head of House. Neither boy said anything to each other as Snape led them down into the dungeons, past the Slytherin common room, and towards his office. Draco's mouth went dry, as he remembered the last time they were in Snape's office—they had received detention. Snape waved his wand and the door opened, allowing the three to enter.

"Sit down." That was all he said. The two boys sat in the seats in front of his desk, while Snape went to his storage closet. After a few moments, he came back with two wrapped packages. Tobias eyes grew bigger as he observed the packages— _these can't be._ Snape set the two packages on the table, a note tied to each one— _For Tobias_ and _For Draco_. Each boy took their package and ripped the paper off to reveal their gift.

"Hail Salazar." Draco whispered. "Nimbus 2000s!"

Tobias nodded as he ran his hand down the broomstick handle, his hand lingering on the inscription at the end. The brooms were black, the same color as the Slytherin Quidditch team brooms. The wood was freshly polished and bristles were all in place.

"A gift from Draco's father." Snape said. "They should come in handy tomorrow."

Tobias didn't know what to say. He was almost killed by a troll, now he was receiving a Nimbus 2000. It was almost like these past two months were playing in his favor. And as he held the new broom in his hands, there were no complaints.

/

It was Saturday, the first of November. The air was getting colder and everything was beginning to look dull and gray. But despite the cons of the seasonal change, it was the beginning of the Quidditch Season and the first game was Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. As everyone gathered in the great hall for breakfast before the match, Tobias noticed as the room was divided between red and gold and green and silver. Even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were wearing either red or green to show their support. Tobias and Draco had walked in wearing their Slytherin Quidditch uniforms, and made their way over to the end of the Gryffindor table. The other four were sitting in their usual spots as they approached the table.

As everyone continued with breakfast as usual, Tobias found himself unable to eat anything. Draco on the other hand, was eating as much as he could, reasoning that he needed his strength. Hermione noticed that Tobias wasn't eating and became concerned.

"Tobias, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Tobias said feebly, clearing his throat once he heard how he sounded. "Just fine."

"It's his first Quidditch game." Draco said through a mouth of toast.

"Really?" Ron was now intrigued. "You never played at home?"

"Didn't really have much time for flying." Tobias said quietly. "Training and all."

"But you've been doing great at practice." Theodore said in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, but that was practice." He responded. "This is the real deal."

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn his head towards her. "I'm sure you'll do great." She said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Tobias returned her smile, but that didn't remove the nervousness settling in his stomach. He and Draco soon left for pre-game preparations, leaving the other four at the table once more. As they were leaving, Professor Snape walked in. Theodore watched as his Head of House walked, raising an eyebrow at the unusualness in his pace.

"Is just me," Theodore began. "or does Snape look like my grandmother when she walks without her cane?"

"Seeing as we never met your grandmother, Theodore." Ron said through a mouthful of eggs. "I don't think we can answer that."

Hermione turned around to look at Snape, understanding what Theodore meant. "That's not the point. Look- he's limping."

"What happened to him?" Neville asked.

"Why don't we find out?" Theodore said cheerfully. "Come, Longbottom. Our destiny awaits."

"O-okay." Neville said nervously, getting up from the table to follow Theodore.

As they left, Hermione and Ron tried not to stare at each other. Hermione didn't know what to say. She wanted to still be upset at Ron, but after what Theodore told her and the fact that Ron came along to rescue her from the troll—she felt no need to.

"Hermione?"

She looked up from her plate to see that Ron was staring at her. "Yes?"

He scratched the back of his head, in an attempt to gather his thoughts. "I just wanted to say—ya know—I'm sorry….about yesterday."

Hermione smiled at her red-haired friend. "It's okay."

"I guess we should head towards the Quidditch pitch huh?"

Hermione nodded, and they both got up and left the great hall.

/

"Alright everyone, this is the first game of the season and most importantly, the biggest one."

Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain stood before the team in his green and silver Quidditch robes. Tobias had to admit that he was a good captain, even though some of his plays were rather violent. Marcus was a fifth year, and was impressed with him and Draco when they flew for him at the first practice. Tobias felt like, in a sense, Flint was counting on them both to win the game for Slytherin.

"Gryffindor hasn't won a game against us in years, and I plan to keep it that way. So everybody play their parts, and show no mercy." He said the last part rather gruffly.

He then grabbed his broom, and walked out of the tent, the rest of the team behind him. As they walked onto the Quidditch pitch, they were met with loud cheers. The whole pitch was filled with red and gold, green and silver. Slytherins and Slytherin supporters cheering and whooping loudly, while supporters of the opposing team booed at them. Tobias was so nervous, he felt like his legs were going to give out at any moment. Draco seemed nervous too, his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Welcome to the first Quiddtich game of the season!" A voice over the intercom shouted. "I am Lee Jordan and I will be your announcer for today's game. Today's match: SLYTHERIN VS. GRYFFINDOR!"

The cheers grew louder as the two teams met at the center of the pitch. There waiting for them was Madam Hooch. She wore her usual black robes and had her broom clutched in her hands. She waited for the two captains to shake hands before she spoke.

"I want a nice and clean game." Flint smirked. " _Nice and Clean_ , Flint. Mount your brooms!"

Tobias hopped onto his broom. He felt his heart about to explode. This was it. He watched as Madam Hooch put the whistle in her mouth. He watched as the rest of the team prepared themselves to take off, all looking hungrily at the Quaffle in her hand. Tobias gripped his broom tighter, preparing for take-off.

The whistle was blown, and Tobias kicked off into the air. The game had begun.

"And they're off!" Lee Jordan said over the intercom.

/

Theodore and Neville had followed Snape to staffroom, making sure to keep a good distance so they wouldn't be noticed. They watched as Snape met up with Quirrell and the two Professors then made their way inside the room. Theodore smirked as he realized the door was cracked. He put his ear to the door, holding a finger over his mouth to keep Neville quiet.

"Blasted beast." Snape sneered. "How can you keep your eyes on all three heads? Even magic can't prepare you for that. What was Dumbledore thinking?"

"He was thinking," Quirrell said promptly. "That he wanted to keep people, like us, from getting passed it."

Neville gasped, and the two Professor went silent. Theodore shook his head in defeat as Snape opened the door, pausing at the two first years.

"What are you two doing here?!" He snapped.

"We…we….we…" Neville stuttered.

"We were looking for Professor Quirrell." Theodore said casually. "We needed to ask him a question about our project."

"Whatever it is it can wait." Snape sneered. "It should hardly be of any importance, seeing as there is a Quidditch match happening today."

Theodore nodded. "Right. Come on Neville, let's go."

The two boys then walked down the corridor, before finally hitting a corner and began to run towards the Quidditch pitch. When they were outside the castle, they stopped in an attempt to catch their breath. Theodore caught his first.

"Longbottom, do you know what this means?"

Neville nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

"Come on, let's get to the game before we run into Snape again."

/

"SLYTHERINS SCORE!"

Slytherin cheers and whoops filled up the pitch as Draco scored for the second time. Tobias sat above the game, keeping an eye out for the snitch. Marcus had specifically told him to stay away from the action, seeing that he was an important player. He watched as his best friend flew swiftly between Gryffindor chasers making his towards the goal post for a third score, but his shot was blocked by Oliver Wood, Gryffindor's keeper.

"Great block, from Wood." Tobias heard Lee Jordan's voice again over the intercom. "Chaser Katie Bell now has the Quaffle—she passes it to Johnson, who makes a swift dive passed Flint—great speed, but—OUCH—Chaser Adrian Pucey now has the Quaffle—passes it to Malfoy—who attempts again to make a score—he dodges the bludger—the two Weasley's—andddd—SLYTHERIN SCORES AGAIN!"

There were groans being heard from the Gryffindor side of the pitch. Hermione watched the game through her binoculars—paying close attention to Tobias and Draco. She never knew Quidditch was such a rough game. The game seemed more of a battle field, and each team were soldiers fighting until the death. Theodore and Neville soon joined them, and Theodore quickly told them what he and Neville heard. Ron opened his mouth to say something back, but Hermione cut him off, saying to wait until after the match was over.

"Gryffindor's back in possession. Johnson seems to be taking the Quaffle all the way to the goal post. She pushes past the Slytherin team—wait—wait a minute—the snitch has been released!"

Tobias's focus snapped back as he heard the word. He looked around, and soon enough found the golden ball flying around the field. He pushed forward and his broom began to zoom in the direction of the snitch. The Gryffindor seeker must've seen it as well because he was also speeding towards it. Tobias leaned forward, causing his broom to pick up speed. The two seekers were neck and neck—Tobias's heart began to race—would he get there in time? The Gryffindor seeker reached out his hand for the snitch, but then—BAM!

Marcus had blocked the Gryffindor seeker. "TOBIAS, GO!" He roared, and Tobias barely nodded as he continued to zoom towards the snitch. He never broke contact with the snitch, dodging bludgers left and right. He was almost there when his broom abruptly shifted to the left, causing Tobias to temporarily lose control. The crowd gasped but soon relaxed as Tobias continued his pursuit. The broom had moved by itself, but he ignored it.

He raced towards the snitch again, this time picking up more speed than before, but his broom jerked again. He whipped around, looking for Marcus to call a time out, but soon saw the Gryffindor seeker mounting his broom again and thought better of it. He tried to catch up with the snitch again, but his broom began to move more violently this time, and Tobias soon realized that his broom was completely out of his control.

"That's a weird way to catch the snitch." Theodore said. The other three turned their heads towards their dark-haired friend. Hermione put her binoculars to her face again, and noticed that Tobias was acting strange—no, his broom was acting strange.

"He isn't trying to catch the snitch." She said. "Someone's jinxing it!"

"Who?!" Ron asked.

Hermione looked around the Quidditch pitch, keeping an eye out for possible suspects. Nobody from the Gryffindor team seemed to be watching, so she went looking in to the crowd.

"Somebody has been in my father's library." Theodore commented. "Only powerful dark magic could do that to a Nimbus 2000."

 _Dark Magic?_ Hermione thought. Her eyes then wandered to the teachers stand.

"I knew it." She gave Ron the binoculars. "It's Snape."

Ron looked towards the teacher stand as well, and just as Hermione said, Snape was watching Tobias non-stop and was mumbling something under his breath. Ron then passed the binoculars to Theodore, who then gave them to Neville.

"So what's the plan?" Theodore asked, still watching Tobias's broom.

"I'll handle it." Hermione said determinedly and left the Gryffindor side of the pitch.

Tobias didn't know what to do except hang on to dear life. As his broom jerked and bucked—Tobias could barely focus on the game below him. Gryffindor was catching up, but to his luck, their seeker had yet to find the snitch.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!" Lee Jordan screamed out and the Gryffindors all cheered with glee.

Hermione made her way to the teachers stand, hoping to make it in time before Snape finished his curse. She crouched under the stands, making her way to the exact spot Snape was sitting in. She pulled out her wand and muttered a spell, causing blue flames of fire to emit from her wand. She ran out of the stands quickly, only listening to the teachers reactions to the fire.

Tobias almost gave up hope for this game, but his broom then stopped moving. He didn't take a second to question it, regaining control of his broom and speeding towards the snitch once more. He flew around the pitch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the golden ball. He watched as the Gryffindor seeker was doing the same, but then a fleck of gold flew past his ear—the snitch. Tobias flew towards the snitch, flying faster than he had the whole game. Everyone held their breath as they watched him fly closer and closer to the ground. Tobias reached out his hand, hoping to catch the snitch before he crashed. He stretched his arm, stretched his fingers.

"He's going to crash!" Theodore screamed out.

"I can't look." Neville said as he covered his eyes with his scarf.

Tobias stretched his hand out, he was almost there. His broom then touched the ground and he flipped over. The crowd gasped as Madam Hooch ran towards him. She sat him up and everyone watched as he covered his mouth—he was going to be sick. Madam Hooch patted his back, and the crowd watched as Tobias spat out something gold from his mouth. He had caught the snitch.

"Tobias LeStrange has caught the snitch, giving Slytherin a hundred and fifty points. SLYTHERIN WINS!"

The pitch was filled again with Slytherin cheers, and Tobias was soon lifted up by the Slytherin team and carried to the middle of the pitch. Students ran down to congratulate him, and Pansy Parkinson planted a kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush furiously.

"You did it mate!" Draco screamed out from below. "You did it!"

While everyone went to celebrate after the game, the six friends met up in the library. Luckily for them, nobody went to the library on Saturdays, so they had the whole place to themselves and they had much to discuss.

"So Snape tried to get past the dog last night?" Draco asked.

"That's what he said." Theodore confirmed. "That's why he's limping. And Quirrell knew he was going to do it."

"Meaning their working together." Hermione added. "And that means—that the troll was a diversion. Quirrell distracted everyone with the troll so Snape could get past the dog!"

"Again…What's so valuable that Dumbledore needs a bloody three-headed dog to guard it and that two teachers what to steal it?!" Ron asked.

"Maybe we should tell a Professor." Hermione suggested.

Draco snorted. "And tell who, Granger? If Snape and Quirrell are going after it, it could mean the other professors are teaming up to get it as well."

Tobias nodded. "Draco's right. But there maybe someone we can trust. Someone who knows the castle inside and out, but isn't a Professor."

The other four looked at Tobias, each unaware of who he was referring to. Draco looked at him and then smirked, catching on to Tobias's plan.

/

The next Thursday came and Draco and Tobias made their way down to Hagrid's hut for detention. Hagrid left the door opened, as he usually did when he was out doing something before the two boys arrived. Tobias and Draco took their usual seats at the table and waited for him to get back. They went over their plan one more time before waiting for Hagrid to return.

Hagrid arrived shortly after, and offered them the usual cups of water. He sat down and they began casual conversation as always—Draco and Tobias went into full detail about the Quidditch match. They talked about the match through the whole detention, waiting until the very last minutes to bring up Snape's jinx.

Hagrid shook his head. "That's rubbish. Snape is a Hogwarts professor. What makes you think he would do somethin' like that?"

The two boys looked at each other, then looked back at Hagrid. "We found out something. Last night, Snape went to the third floor corridor while everyone was running from the troll, and we believe he tried to get past the three-headed dog."

"Three-headed dog? _Fluffy?_ "

Draco gaped. "That beast has a name?!"

"Of course it has a name." Hagrid said in a matter-of-fact tone. "It's mine. Bought it from a Greek chap I met at the pub last year."

"And Dumbledore lets you keep it in the school?" Draco went on. "As a pet?"

"Nooooo." Hagrid said. "Dumbledore's using him to guard the—" He suddenly stopped, his eyes growing wider as if he had already too much.

"Guard the what?" Tobias said quickly.

Hagrid shook his head. "I can't tell ya that. It's top secret."

"But Snape and Quirrell are trying to _steal_ it." Tobias said desperately.

"Snape and Quirrell are Hogwarts Professors." Hagrid disagreed. "They would do nothin' of the sort. You're meddling in business you don't understand. Now you two needta' forget about that dog and forget what it's guardin', the only people who should be concerned about it is Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" Tobias asked. "Hagrid?"

Hagrid eyes grew bigger, and the boys knew he had told them something he wasn't supposed to. The two boys then ran out of the hut, leaving Hagrid furious with himself. So there was someone named Nicolas Flamel involved? They had to tell the rest.

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	8. SS8: Alone for the Holidays

Happiness damn near destroys you

Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor

So you tell yourself, "That's enough for now."

Happiness has a violent roar

~ Happiness – The Fray

Chapter 8: Alone for the Holidays

"CRUCIO!"

Voldemort watched as his doctor's body shook violently on the floor of his study. He watched as the man begged and begged him to see reason, but Voldemort was not a patient man. His sickness was causing him to feel even more impulsive, impatient, and dangerous than he had ever been. He did not have time to see reason—he needed the stone, and Quirrell had failed to bring it to him. Everyone knew that a failure to the Dark Lord ended in punishment. He mustered up enough magical energy to cast his curses—though he would be weak by the end of it, it would be worth it. Quirrell would get the message. He needed this stone. Everything depended on it. _Everything._

"How will I live out my reign if I die, Quirrell?" He said feebly, his anger rising from the sound of his voice. He was weak, and Voldemort did not tolerate weakness. Weakness meant vulnerability. And vulnerability meant defeat.

"Please, my Lord, I beg you— _AGHHHH!"_ Another curse.

"How will I carry out my plans?" He hissed. His voice grew higher, but only resulted in a parade of violent coughs. His servant stood against the wall, trying to balance himself with his hands—debating if he should help his master or not. Voldemort could tell he was weak, but he did not care. Quirrell had failed him.

"My Lord, if you just keep taking your medicine- _Ahhhh!"_ He fell to the floor again.

"I do not want the medicine, I want the _ston_ e!" Voldemort said venomously. His voice then grew softer. "What will happen to Tobias, if I'm dead?"

Quirrell opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it. Voldemort had brought up the boy, but why? And what was even stranger, his master did not refer to Tobias as "the boy" as usual, but by his name. _Tobias._ Did the Dark Lord care for the boy? Or was he worried about his plans for the boy to be his heir? Either way, Voldemort had a point. What would happen to Tobias, if Voldemort died?

"I understand my Lord, I will get you the stone as soon as possible." He breathed out. "But I implore you to take your medicine. It will not be easy for me to get it."

"How long?" Voldemort said quietly.

Quirrell thought, and he thought quickly. He needed time to plan this out, and to get the Order involved. Plus find a way to make Tobias see the truth, or at least some of it. "The end of the school year." He said quickly. "Dumbledore will be leaving for a conference with the Wizengamot. I will be able to take the stone once he leaves. Please, my Lord. Give me until then."

Voldemort did not hesitate to show his displeasure in Quirrell's plan, but seeing as he could not barge into Hogwarts and take the stone himself, he had no choice but to give in. He casted another curse on his servant, again watching him groan and listening to his muffled screams. He removed it, grabbing his cane to stand up again. He walked to the door, stopping at the doorway.

"Do not fail me this time, Quirrell." He said lowly. "You will not receive the same mercy I have given you today." And he walked out of his study, leaving Quirrell, who was breathing heavily from the curse, on the ground.

/

Draco was still feeling the after-game glow that Monday after the Quidditch match. He had been stopped by other first years who complimented him on his plays and older years who admired his skill. He shouldn't have been feeling so proud, seeing that he played by the grace of a lie. A downright lie told by the person he least expected it to be. Hermione Granger.

He never thanked her, and he had seen her twice since the match. It was out of his character not to thank someone. It was pureblood policy—it was a Malfoy policy. If it wasn't for her, he and Tobias would have never played and Slytherin would've lost. He wouldn't be receiving the compliments and adorations he was receiving now. He didn't know why the fact he hadn't thanked her was weighing on his chest. But whatever the reason, he would fulfill it. So he went to find her.

He went to library first, seeing that she was always there- and the fact that he didn't want to make that long and embarrassing trip to Gryffindor tower. But to his satisfaction, she was there—sitting at their usual table, working on homework most likely. _Typical Granger._ He thought to himself. He walked in smoothly, trying to make it seem as if finding her wasn't his previous objective—or that he even came to say thank you. As he walked towards the table, Hermione raised her head from her work to look at him, giving him a soft smile. He felt his stomach tighten as she smiled at him, but returned her smile as he stood before her.

"Malfoy." Hermione greeted him, returning to her work.

Draco was silent for a moment, his stomach still in knots. "Granger." He cleared his throat. "I wanted to say thank you."

Hermione looked back at him, she seemed confused. "For what?"

"For Halloween." He scratched the back of his neck. "You didn't have to lie for us."

She shrugged. "We're friends. That's what we do." She smiled again.

Draco felt relieved, but felt a small pang in his chest. _Friends._ She said they were friends. He was alright with that, of course, but for some reason it felt strange. He simply nodded, and took a seat beside her. He looked over to the book she was reading, noticing that it wasn't one of their school textbooks.

" _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century?_ " He smirked, reading the title aloud. "Looks like someone is looking for Nicolas Flamel."

"Only problem is," Hermione said while closing the book, "He isn't in here. Nor was he in _Notable Magical Names of Our Time._ It's like he doesn't exist."

"But he has to." Draco grabbed one of the books and began flipping through the pages. "Hagrid said he knew Dumbledore, and they both had something to do with whatever Fluffy is guarding."

Hermione laughed at him. Draco looked up, frowning. "What's so funny?"

"You called him Fluffy." She giggled. "Though he is nowhere near fluffy, being the three-headed creature it really is."

Draco shrugged again. "It's his name." He then threw a smirk at her. "You wouldn't want anyone calling you _girl_ , would you?"

"Of course not," Hermione said proudly. Draco smiled at her proudness, she was a fierce one. Though he hated her know-it-all attitude and her knack for following the rules, there were certain parts about Hermione Granger he had come to like. He closed the book, grabbing his things and hers as well.

"Malfoy, what are you?"

"We're going to be late for dinner, Granger." He then turned around, smirking at her again. "Or did you forget?"

Hermione's face then went red, not realizing how long she had been in the library. She then got up, and followed Draco out the library. They were halfway to the Great Hall when she realized that Malfoy was still carrying her books.

"You don't have to carry my books." She tried to reach for them, but Draco pulled them away.

"I know I don't but…..I want to." He said the last part rather softly, his stomach twisting in more knots as he said it.

"Oh, ok." Hermione turned her head to hide her blush. It wasn't like Malfoy to be nice to her, yet carry her books or walk with her to the Great Hall. He usually stuck around Tobias whenever they talked. It was nice talking to Malfoy like this, it made her think about what Theodore said. That they were friends.

"Thank you." She said, causing Draco to stop in his tracks and look at her.

"For what?"

"For coming to save me." She said softly, trying to focus on her shoes. "You didn't have to." She looked back up a Draco, not knowing what to expect. But her nerves soon went away when she saw that he was smiling at her.

"We're friends. That's what we do."

And with that they continued their walk to the Great Hall.

/

The castle had been decorated in Christmas décor—giant Christmas trees were in the Great Hall while snow fell from the enchanted ceiling. But though the décor should have brought Christmas cheer, Tobias was sitting at the dinner table, finding himself unable to eat again. The piece of parchment on the table remained unfolded- untouched from when he first opened it. Theodore, Ron, and Neville soon joined him, their laughs and voices growing silent when they noticed his gloomy state. The three boys looked among themselves before Theodore decided to address their friend.

"Meat Pie ruining your mood huh?" Theodore tried to joke, but seeing as Tobias's facial expression did not change, Theodore frowned. He looked to Ron and Neville, hoping they had something that would get him to talk to them.

"Are you alright, Tobias?" Neville asked.

Tobias didn't say anything, but only slid the piece of parchment towards his three friends. Ron picked up the paper, frowning as well as he passed the parchment to Theodore and Neville. The two boys felt their moods drop as they read the letter, finally understanding what was causing Tobias to be so sad.

"Your grandfather's sick." Neville whispered, too afraid to say anything else.

Tobias sniffled, then nodded. "He's sending me to Draco's for the holidays. This will be my first Christmas without him."

Ron scratched his head, trying to think of something helpful to say. "I'm sure he'll get better." Was all he could get out.

Tobias shook his head. "He's been sick since the summer—if he's not better by now…."

"No." Theodore shook his head, covering his ears. "No, don't say that."

"Don't say what?" Draco and Hermione had just approached the table. Ron raised any eyebrow at the two, but decided to stay silent, given the situation.

"I'm staying with you for Christmas." Tobias said dryly. His focus was still on his dinner in front of him, which no doubt was cold by now. Draco looked to the rest, silently asking what was he talking about. Neville slid him the letter and him and Hermione read it.

"Tobias this doesn't mean…" Hermione began.

"It's exactly what it means." Tobias stopped her. "He's dying."

Draco shook his head. "He didn't say that in the letter, he just said it's getting worse."

Tobias snapped his head up. His face was pale and his eyes were puffy. "And then what, Draco?!"

"Tobias." Hermione said softly.

"If he dies, where will I go? My mother's in _Azkaban!_ My father is _dead!_ " He threw his fork down. "He's all I have left." Tobias then stood up and walked out of the Great Hall. The remaining five watched him leave. None of them could understand Tobias's pain which made it hard for them to say something he would believe.

"Should we go after him?" Ron finally said.

"No." Draco said sadly. "In times like this—he likes to be alone."

Ron nodded and they all continued their dinner in silence.

Dumbledore watched the scene from his place at the High Table. His smile fell as he watched Tobias walk away from the Gryffindor table. It was clear that the young boy was upset.

"Voldemort's condition is getting worse." Snape whispered. "His sickness is causing him to become more dangerous. In result, he sent the boy to stay with the Malfoys for Christmas."

"Is he not taking the medicine Quirrell provided for him?" Dumbledore said casually.

"No." Snape sighed. "He's depending on Quirrell, and even myself, to get him the stone. He refuses to take the medicine."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Stubborn, Tom." Dumbledore then sighed. "Call the Order. We have something to discuss."

/

Pansy Parkinson was what most would call "The Perfect Pureblood" girl. The Parkinsons were a noble pureblood family, never settling for anything less than what was expected and always getting what they wanted. Always. But she was different than her family, or at least that's what she thought. She didn't care about the looks or the proper etiquette. She didn't care much for playing the "dumb girl" role to get a guy, even if she was betrothed to him. Even if it meant rising to the standards equal to the heir of You-Know-Who, Tobias LeStrange.

It was no doubt she liked him, he was a very sweet boy. I think she was most interested in the fact that he wasn't like other Slytherin boys. He wasn't as cocky and arrogant as Draco Malfoy or as nonchalant as Theodore Nott. To be honest, he wasn't very Slytherin-like at all. And that's probably what she liked about him. That's probably why she kissed his cheek after the Quidditch game—he was really something, not just the heir of You-Know-Who. She blushed at the thought of it.

She was walking down the corridor to the Slytherin common room. She had an essay to finish for Snape, so she left dinner early, saying her goodbyes to her two friends Daphne and Millicent. Unlike herself, her two friends had no problem with turning in average work. Daphne was betrothed to Theodore, and Millicent, bless her heart, had been betrothed to Vincent Crabbe. Pansy wasn't really sure why it was pureblood tradition to find out who you were betrothed to so young, but in Millicent's case, she could understand why.

As she walked inside the Slytherin common room, she noticed that nobody was there. _Perfect._ She proceeded to walk towards an empty table when she heard sniffling coming from the staircase that lead to the dormitories. She wanted to ignore it, but something in her gut told her to see who it was. She slowly walked towards the staircase, praying to Salazar it wasn't an older student, who would no doubt curse at her and tell her to go mind her business. Not that she cared, however, she would just rather avoid that situation. But all her thoughts of that soon went away as the person came into view. She stopped in her tracks, recognizing that dark hair.

"Tobias?"

Tobias jerked his head up, his green eyes meeting her blue ones. He quickly wiped his eyes, but Pansy already knew that he was crying, so she chose to ignore his attempt to make it seem as if he wasn't.

"Are you alright?" She pushed on.

"I would like to be left alone, Parkinson." He snapped.

Pansy crossed her arms. "I understand you're upset, but you don't have to be rude."

Tobias took a deep breath. "I apologize." He scooted over to make room for her. "Please sit."

Pansy hesitated for a moment, not expecting him to give in, but finally sat down beside him. They sat there in silence, and Pansy could tell that Tobias was trying to keep himself from crying. She watched as his chest heaved and breathed heavily. Pansy didn't know what to do. Her parents were never the ones to comfort her when she was sad, only the house elves—and they could only do so much before being called for another task. She submitted to taking his hand and holding it in hers. She felt her heart clench when his breathing relaxed.

"He's dying." That was all he said. He then looked at her, hoping that she would understand. And to be honest, she did. She knew about Tobias's parents, and how his grandfather was all he had left. She squeezed his hand tighter, silently confirming that she understood. They continued to sit there, for how long, Pansy didn't know. Her potions essay was far from her mind as she comforted the dark-haired boy sitting beside her. He stopped crying a while ago, only sniffling every once in a while. She wished to know what was on his mind, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb him.

"Thank you." He finally said. "For sitting with me."

She gave him a small smile. "You don't have to thank me."

Tobias returned her smile, and Pansy felt butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't stop staring at him, and she really wish she could. But like she said, it was something about him.

Their moment was ruined when Tobias's stomach growled. Pansy giggled while Tobias's cheeks went red from embarrassment. He soon remembered he hadn't eaten dinner, and that he was apparently very hungry. Pansy reached in her robes, and pulled out a chocolate frog.

"It's not much." She shrugged. "But it's better than starving to death."

Tobias took the frog and ripped it opened, biting off the head of the frog before it could even hop away. After finishing the frog, he looked at the card, hoping to receive a new one for his collection. He was disappointed to see he got another Dumbledore card. Pansy took the card out of his hand, giving him a "well you didn't want it" look as she read it aloud.

"Albus Dumbledore. Currently Headmaster at Hogwarts. Blah, blah, blah—greatest wizard of all time….discovered twelve uses of dragons blood….Nicholas Flamel."

As she read the card, something clicked in Tobias's head. "Did you say Nicolas Flamel?"

"Yeah, it says here. He's famous for his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel."

"I knew I had seen that name somewhere." Tobias said, slapping himself on the forehead. "I just didn't remember where." He jumped up and ran out of the common room. "Thanks Pansy!" He yelled out before the portrait hole closed.

Pansy rolled her eyes, looking back down at the Dumbledore card. "Boys." But she then found herself blushing again. It was just something about that boy—and just that one.

/

Everyone gathered in Dumbledore's office that night. Each person was unaware what this meeting was about—Snape had been very limited on the details, only saying that it was urgent. Mad-Eye arrived first, then Lupin, the Weasleys, Tonks, and then Kingsley. They all stood around the Headmaster's desk while Dumbledore casted the usual silencing charms. He then returned to his seat, looking to his fellow members with a face of deep conflict.

"Lord Voldemort's condition is worsening." He said grimly. He could see the color returning to everyone's faces—to them this was good news.

"That's good news isn't it?" Arthur Weasley laughed weakly. He soon stopped, the atmosphere did not feel like good news.

"He's dying." Quirrell spoke up. He was still weak from his previous visit to LeStrange Manor. He heard Molly gasp as he came into view, his bruises and cuts showing on his skin like jewelry. "He's becoming more impulsive—more dangerous."

"Harry." Molly whispered.

"Voldemort has sent him to the Malfoy's for Christmas." Quirrell continued. "He doesn't want Tobias to see him this way."

Lupin scoffed. "So now he cares for the boy?"

"I don't know." Quirrell shrugged. "You weren't there when he said it. His name—for a moment, it felt like he did."

"Only cause the boy is supposed to be his heir." Mad-Eye pointed out.

Quirrell shook his head. "He didn't even bring up his training. He just asked me—what will happen to him, if he dies?"

The room became quiet. Nobody wanted to believe it, that Voldemort actually cared for the boy. Cared enough to send him away as his sickness got worse. Enough to wonder what would happen to him if he died.

"He would come with us, of course." Molly said it as if it was the obvious answer.

"Surely," Snape finally spoke up, "You all know that the Dark Lord would have a plan to keep the boy out of the Order's hands should that happen?"

"It's surely better that the alternative." Said Lupin. "We would—"

"Have to give Voldemort the stone." Dumbledore finished his sentence.

"Dumbledore if we do that," Kingsley said. "He'll be unstoppable."

"But if we don't, we will lose the boy, forever." Dumbledore looked to his order members, trying to get them to see the bigger picture.

"There must be another way." Molly said desperately.

"The only other way was the medicine." Quirrell said softly. "And he isn't taking it."

The room went silent again—a battle waging in everyone's mind. Everyone had to decide if letting Harry Potter live, was worth giving Voldemort immortality.

"How long do we have?" Lupin asked.

"Until the end of the year." Quirrell looked to Dumbledore. "He wants me to take it the night you leave for your conference with the Wizengamot."

Dumbledore nodded. "We have until then. Either we find another way to keep Voldemort alive without the stone, or we will have to give it to him. For Harry's sake."

"For Harry's sake." Everyone repeated after him.

/

It was two days before Christmas, and all the students of Hogwarts were making their holiday arrangements. Those who would be going home would be boarding the train to King's Cross tomorrow morning, and those who opted to stay in the castle continued to enjoy their break. Neville was going to his grandmother's, Hermione was going home to her parents, Ron and Theodore were staying at the school, and Tobias and Draco were going to the Malfoys for Christmas. The six met up for one last time before they had to leave tomorrow. They met in the library, sitting at the last table in the back of the library which they deemed their spot since the beginning of the year.

"So here's what we know," Tobias began, "Nicolas Flamel is real, he's an alchemist. Fluffy is guarding something valuable to both Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel and Snape and Quirrell want to steal it."

"What we don't know is," Draco added in. "Is what this valuable thing is, why Snape and Quirrell want it, and who they are stealing it for."

"I'll try to find as much information as I can," Hermione offered. "But there isn't much I can do, seeing as I'll be at home." She then turned to Theodore and Ron. "You two, however."

"No." Ron shook his head frantically. "I'm not spending my Christmas holiday in _here._ "

"You won't be." Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I've already checked this part of the library."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean this part?"

She then leaned over the table, her voice at a low whisper. "I haven't checked the restricted section."

A smirk rose on Theodore's face. "Restricted you say?"

Ron put his head in his hands. "I'm beginning to think we've been a bad influence on you."

Tobias clapped his hands together. "So it's settled, then."

"What can I do?" Neville said, seeing as he didn't have a job.

"Try not to hurt yourself over the holiday, Longbottom." Draco said humorously. The rest laughed at his joke while Neville's face turned a deep shade of red.

Christmas Eve came and the six went their separate ways. Tobias was silent on the train ride to King's Cross. Draco tried his best to cheer his friend up, but nothing he said worked. Hermione tried to interest him in a conversation about Nicolas Flamel, but he wasn't up for that either. Neville didn't even try, seeing as Draco and Hermione couldn't get him to talk—how could he?

Tobias appreciated that his friends were trying to cheer him up, but he just wasn't feeling the Christmas spirit. This would be his first Christmas without his grandfather- away from LeStrange Manor. And though he would be with Draco and his parents, who always made him feel welcomed, he felt empty knowing that his grandfather would not be there. His mother would not be there and his father couldn't be there. He couldn't help but feel alone—you're never supposed to be alone on Christmas. Never. He put his hands in his robe pocket, pulling out the letter from his grandfather. Theodore tried to convince him to throw it away, saying he didn't need to be reminded of the negative things during Christmas, but Tobias couldn't do it. Draco only casted him a sympathetic look as he reopened the letter.

 _Tobias,_

 _I am displeased to say that my sickness is worsening. My healer is doing all he can to help me, but the medicine isn't enough. I know you were looking forward to spending the Christmas holiday with me at the manor, but due to my depleting health, I do not wish for you to see me in such a weak state. I am sending you to the Malfoy's for Christmas. Hopefully, we will be reunited by the end of the school year._

 _Grandfather_

 _/_

Back at Hogwarts, Ron and Theodore finally found something they had in common. Wizards Chess. They were both good and each one silently admitted to themselves how good the other was. They had been playing for what seemed like hours, before giving up—finally realizing that this game wouldn't end. They were sitting at their table in the library, each refusing to visit the other's common room.

"So why didn't you go home for Christmas?" Theodore asked. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, his feet propped on the table.

"My parents went to Romania to visit my brother Charlie."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "What's so special about Romania?"

"My brother breeds Dragons up there."

Theodore dropped his chair, clasping his hands together. "Dragons you say?" And the two boys began their conversation about dragons and Romania. Theodore listened intently as Ron went on and on about his brother's duties as a Dragon breeder. The boys laughed as Theodore made jokes and Ron told embarrassing stories he overheard from his parents.

"Why didn't you go home for Christmas, Theo?" Ron said casually, before realizing he had called Theodore, Theo. "I didn't—I hope you—"

"Theo, huh?" Theodore interrupted him, a smirk growing across his face. "I like it."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's ever called you Theo, before? Not even your parents?"

Theodore tensed at his words. His chest to tighten at the thought of his father. "My parents don't really allow nicknames—says it takes away the 'value of the name'." He put up quotations to reveal the ridiculousness of the statement. "It's really my father though, he's a big pureblood supremacist. With my mother being sick and all—"

"Your mother's sick?" Ron interrupted.

"She's been sick for a while- not like Tobias's grandfather sick though." Theodore said nonchalantly.

"Is that why you're not at home?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"I'm not at home because of my father." Theo said bitterly. He unconsciously balled his first, causing Ron to slightly edge away from him, hoping Theo wasn't planning on using them. He gulped.

"He's that bad, huh?"

Theo then sighed, "Let's just say, Ronald-this is one of the best Christmases I've had in a while."

/

King's Cross looked the same as it did when Tobias first got on the Hogwarts Express. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were waiting for the two boys when they got off the train. They had already bid their goodbyes to Hermione and Neville before leaving, seeing as their families were on different parts of the platform. Narcissa hugged them both, while Lucius stood there—looking like a true pureblood father.

"Tobias," The older man said to him, "You grandfather wanted me to tell you that he'll be joining us for dinner tonight."

Tobias felt a smile appear among his lips, but he was nervous to be seeing his grandfather's appearance for the first time since the summer. They made their way to the fireplaces at the end of the platform, and Lucius threw down enough powder to floo them back to Malfoy Manor. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad after all.

 **Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	9. SS9: The Philosopher

Mama called me destructive

Said it'd ruin me one day

Cause every woman that loved me

I seemed to push them away

~ Real Life x The Weeknd

Chapter 9: The Philosopher's Stone

Tom Riddle looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't worn anything out of his usual black robes for months, and he was just starting to get used to his snakelike appearance again. But of course it would not last long—with the boy coming home for the holidays he must return to his human-like disguise, he must appear as Tom Riddle. He ran his fingers carefully over his emerald green vest, his brown silk patterned tie shining from the light in his room. He waved his wand, removing any remaining lint from his brown cotton trousers. It had been so long since he wore a suit like this. If he remembered correctly, the last time he wore one was during his Hogwarts days, before he began his quest as Lord Voldemort.

"How long must I keep up this disguise Quirrell?" He said as his servant passed him his brown blazer. "I look like my pathetic mudblood father."

Quirrell chuckled. "It's only for the dinner, my Lord. With the boy not coming home for Christmas, you'll be able to return to your regular appearance."

Tom grunted. He pushed back his black hair once more before trailing down to his facial features. His skin felt unnatural at his touch. His skin was no longer cold and rough, but soft and warm—smooth. His fingers were no longer skinny and bony, but full. So was his body—his arms and legs filled up every inch of his dress shirt and trousers. Everything fit, nothing hanged loosely. He felt confined, instead of the usual freedom he felt within his robes. He did not like the feel of this, it brought back old memories. Memories that he had been trying to forget all his life. His mother falling in love with a muggle, having a child by him and leaving that child at an orphanage to be raised with muggle children as if he was as weak and pathetic as them. He would never forget the day Dumbledore came to him, and told him he was something more—he was a wizard.

 _"It's….it's magic, what I can do?"_

 _What is it that you can do?"_

 _"All sorts," He breathed out. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."_

 _He stood for a moment, before finally flopping down on the bed. His legs had given way to his new discovery. He stared at his hands, his head bowed. It all made sense now._

 _"I knew I was different," He whispered, still looking at his hands. "I knew I was special. Always. I knew there was something."_

 _"Well you were quite right," He heard Dumbledore say. "You are a wizard."_

He then turned around, facing his servant who was wearing a suit similar to his, except with the colors red and black. He wore a black turban instead of his usual light purple one. He handed his master his cane, and they walked over to the fireplace. Quirrell took enough floo powder in his hands, saying "Malfoy Manor" before the green flames engulfed the both of them.

/

The house elves of Malfoy Manor had decorated the mansion beautifully for the Christmas holidays. The piles of snow laid neatly on the roof, and the trees and bushes were covered with snow as well. The path had been enchanted to stay clear of snow, allowing the Malfoys and Tobias to make a clean walk up to the front doors. The inside was cleaner that Tobias had ever seen it—if that was possible with Narcissa Malfoy walking around. The place was spotless, Tobias could even see his reflection in the gray marble floor below him. The parlor had been mildly decorated—holly draped from the fireplace mantle and the white Christmas tree was decorated with green and silver Christmas ornaments. Under the tree laid hundreds of presents, all wrapped in shiny green wrapping paper with silver bows on top. Draco gave Tobias a look which meant they would be back later on that night to "examine" the loot.

They all sat at the dinner table, awaiting for Tobias's grandfather to arrive. The table was set for six, Lucius said his grandfather was bringing a guest along with him. Tobias sat by Draco, and Narcissa sat across from them, the empty seat beside her reserved for Grandfather's guest. The two chairs at the end of the table were meant for Lucius and the Dark Lord. Tobias felt his heart drum against his chest. This would be the first time he'd seen his grandfather since the summer. He did not know what to expect—what if he was too sick and did not show up? What if he couldn't recognize him?

"He's here." Lucius Malfoy said. Narcissa then rose from the table, snapping her fingers at Draco and Tobias to straighten themselves up. There was a roar of flames that could be heard from the next room, and Tobias could hear voices in the distance—one which sounded very familiar and one that sounded familiar as well. He watched as Lucius walked back into the dining room, his grandfather in tow. And behind him was….Professor Quirrell?

"I'm sure you all remember my healer, Quirrell." Voldemort said as he fully entered the room.

"Quirinus," Narcissa said politely, a rehearsed smile on her face. "My Lord."

Voldemort ignored her greeting, making his way towards the empty seat at the end of the table. Quirrell gave Narcissa an apologetic smile as he helped his master sit in his seat.

"How have you been, Narcissa?" He sat down beside her, trying to make up for the Dark Lord's rudeness.

"Fairly well." She responded coolly, but Quirrell could tell she was bothered by the way Voldemort had chosen not to speak to her. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact with the man sitting at the end of the table. Human disguise or not, he was still Lord Voldemort.

"Quirrell, I think that hardly matters," Tom said politely. "We are here to discuss the boys," He smiled towards his grandson. "And their endeavors at Hogwarts."

Narcissa pursed her lips. "Of course." She then looked towards Lucius, who cleared his throat, summoning for the house elves to serve the food.

Tobias felt his mouth begin to water as the elves brought out tonight's dinner. The aroma from the Christmas ham kissed his nostrils, and the stuffing did the same. Each dish came out one by one—yams, roast beef, bread rolls, pumpkin pie—the Malfoy Elves had really outdone themselves. As everyone became entranced with the amount of food on the table, the house elf known as Gilly went around the table and filled each person's glass. The adults received red wine while Draco and Tobias were served apple cider.

There was a clink of a glass, and everyone turned their attention to Lord Voldemort, who was now standing in his spot at the end of the table. With one hand, he balanced himself against the table, using his other to hold his glass.

"I would like to propose a toast," He began, his voice hoarse and feeble, "to the heirs." Tobias and Draco looked at each other, casting a smirk at the word "heirs."

"Each has begun their journey to achieve great things in the future for all purebloods alike. I have no doubt that these two boys will be the _greatest, most powerful_ _wizards of their time_."

At his emphasis, he began coughing, more violently than he had the other day. Quirrell stood to help him, but Voldemort waved him off, determine to complete his toast. Tobias watched in horror as his Grandfather fought through his sickness. His sullen facial features then came into view—his face grew pale and there were bags under his eyes. The coughing finally stopped, and Voldemort took a sip of his drink before continuing. He turned to Tobias and Draco, who both looked uncomfortable due to the previous incident.

"May the future of the Sacred 28 lie in their hands, as they uphold the true values and morals of what it means to be a Malfoy and a LeStrange—to be pure."

Quirrell felt his stomach clench as the Dark Lord made his toast. The boys were oblivious to what Voldemort meant, but Quirrell knew. Lucius knew. Narcissa knew. Yet they had to sit there and watch as he poured the pureblood poison into their veins. Quirrell couldn't help but to look disgusted at Lucius, who seemed proud that the Dark Lord was giving his son recognition. He couldn't help but feel that Dumbledore had been foolish not to go after the boy. Voldemort already had years of plans for Tobias, and here he sat, smiling at the fact that he would be the one enduring it all. But little did he know the pain and torture that would lie ahead. Neither of them knew what being a Death Eater actually _meant_ —and here was Voldemort, speaking of it as an honor.

"To the heirs." Voldemort said, raising his glass.

Everyone raised their glasses. "To the heirs."

/

As Christmas dinner came to a close, Narcissa sent the boys up to bed while the adults stayed downstairs to discuss "very important business." It was now midnight, and all the guests had left. Tobias had been waiting in Draco's room, waiting for his cousin to return so they could begin their Christmas Eve activities. As he waited, the events from tonight's dinner replayed in his mind. Professor Quirrell was his grandfather's doctor? Then, what is he doing at Hogwarts?

A smile rose to his lips once he reached the event of his grandfather's toast. He said he and Draco would be the greatest, most powerful wizards of their age. They would do great things. They were _pure._ He had heard of those who were deemed impure—muggle-borns and blood traitors. He was happy to not be one of them—but he then frowned. Ron and Hermione, two of his friends—a muggle-born and a blood traitor— _impurities._ He shook his head, trying to shake these thoughts out. Ron and Hermione may have fallen into those categories, but neither were impure. They were two of the bravest he had ever met—one, because they chose to be friends with Slytherins, and two, because they chose to be friends with Draco. Tobias came to the conclusion that his two friends were exceptions and that they would do great things as well.

The door to the room opened again and the blonde haired boy slipped inside. He closed the door with ease, making sure it did not make a noise as he closed it. He tip-toed to Tobias's side of the room and plopped down on the other end of the bed.

"All the house elves are gone, and my parents have gone to their room." He rubbed his hands together mischievously. "The loot is ours."

Tobias smirked. "Let's get a move on then, shall we?"

The two boys jumped down from the bed, tip-toeing out of the room, and began their journey to the parlor. Draco cast a quick silencing charm, a measure just in case their footsteps were too loud or someone said something. Tobias walked right behind Draco, making sure to stay in the dark parts of the hallway. They were halfway there when Tobias heard to voices of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. He would have kept walking, but his attention was caught as their conversation continued. He put his ear to the door, knowing his movements could not be heard because of Draco's charm.

"Tobias, what are you doing?" Draco whispered. "The presents are this way." He pointed down the staircase—they had been so close.

"Just go without me." Tobias said quickly. "I'll be down in a minute."

Draco shrugged and made his way down the steps. Tobias leaned closer into the door, trying to take in the Malfoy's current conversation.

"His health will improve, Narcissa." He heard Lucius Malfoy say. "Quirrell just needs more time."

Narcissa huffed. "And what if he runs out of time? Where will Tobias go?"

"I hardly see why that is any of our concern. He isn't our son."

"He's as good as!" Narcissa hissed at her husband. "Bella is in Azkaban, and Rodolphus is dead. Lucius, it would be best for him to stay here."

"There is no need to make arrangements." Lucius drawled on. "The Dark Lord will heal."

"And what if he doesn't? How can you be so sure that he will?"

The room went silent. Tobias ears burned with anticipation. What did Quirrell need more time to do? Why was Lucius so sure his grandfather would heal? The way he looked at dinner did not convince Tobias that he could get any better. But Lucius Malfoy thought differently—what did he know that Tobias didn't? _Say it._ Tobias could feel his heart pounding as he heard Lucius sighing.

"What I am about to tell you, you will never speak of again." He addressed her sternly. Narcissa was silent, Tobias assumed she nodded or did something in confirmation because Lucius continued. "There is a stone, a very rare stone, hidden at Hogwarts."

"What does that—"

"Quiet, woman." Lucius snapped. "Have you heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what powers it possesses?"

"I am aware." Narcissa said coolly.

"That is what Quirrell is after. Dumbledore has hidden it within the castle, and Quirrell has been sent to retrieve it for the Dark Lord."

Tobias felt his heart stop—the gears in his head began to spin and everything began to make so much sense. That's why someone tried to break into Gringotts. That's what Fluffy was guarding on the third floor for Dumbledore and Flamel. That's what Quirrell and Snape tried to steal on Halloween night. The Philosopher's Stone. Now the question was: Why did his grandfather want it? Tobias quickly made his way down the staircase, making his way to the parlor where he found Draco sitting under the Christmas tree, shaking his presents one by one.

"Look Tobias." He said as he shook another. "I think this one is a broom cleaning kit." He then stopped shaking the box, realizing that his cousin was not paying attention to his gift. Tobias only stood there, trying to gather his thoughts. "Tobias?"

"I know what Fluffy is guarding."

Draco snorted. "You're barking."

Tobias shook his head. "It's the Philosopher's Stone. Dumbledore moved it from Gringotts to Hogwarts. That's what Snape and Quirrell are trying to steal."

Draco stopped shaking the presents. "Why, though?"

"It has healing powers or something of that nature." Tobias paused. "They're stealing it for my grandfather."

/

Christmas morning at Hogwarts was a little different than Christmases at the Burrow. Okay. They were extremely different. There wasn't any Christmas music being played, or the sound of two twin brothers yelling for everyone to get up. There was no smell of bacon and pancakes downstairs. The castle was silent—it felt like any other day. Except it wasn't—it was Christmas.

Ron jumped out of his bed, almost slipping on his bed sheets and rushed downstairs to the Gryffindor common room. Under the Christmas tree, he found three big packages addressed to him. One was from his mother, who knitted him and every one of his new friends a Christmas sweater—each one a different color and their initials stitched on the front. Ron's was maroon with a golden 'R' on the front. He slipped it on—knowing that his mother would kill him if he hadn't worn it. The next package was from Hermione, who gave him a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and a book called _Quidditch: Throughout the Ages._ His last package was from Tobias, Draco, Theo, and Neville. He opened it, revealing a poster of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team. Ron watched as the players zoomed in and out of the poster.

"Happy Christmas Ronald!" said a voice behind him.

"Happy Christmas, Theo—AHH!" Ron backed up so fast, he tripped on the box of sweaters. "Where's the rest of you?!"

There standing—or floating—in front of him was the head of Theodore Nott. The head laughed at Ron as he tried his best to get farther under the Christmas tree. Theo then removed the silvery cloth from around himself, revealing his full body to his freckled- faced friend. Ron's mouth gaped opened as Theo's body came into view.

"I know what that is!" He said astonished. He got up to approach Theodore, who was holding the silvery cloth in his hands. "That's an invisibility cloak!"

"Wicked, right?" Theo said with a smirk. "I found it on Tobias's bed when I woke up this morning."

Ron touched the cloak, relishing in the silky feeling of it at his touch. He wrapped his hands in it, watching as they disappeared before his eyes. "But who gave it to him?"

Theo shrugged. "Dunno. All the note said was, 'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.'"

" _Use it well?"_ Ron said suspiciously. "What does that mean?"

Theo shrugged again. "So what did you get me for Christmas?"

Ron didn't say anything as he walked over to the box of knitted sweaters and pulled out Theodore's. It was a navy blue sweater with a silver 'T' stitched in the middle. He walked back, sheepishly handing Theo his sweater—hoping he wouldn't laugh at his mother's gift.

Theo held the sweater in his hands. It had been a while since someone _made_ him something. His presents from his parents were family heirlooms—things that weren't truly made for him, but was his "duty" to inherit them. But this sweater, it belonged to him. His initial was even on the front— _his first initial_. This was his—this was Theo's sweater. A big smile planted itself on Ron's face as Theo threw on his sweater, admiring the feel and the warmth of it.

"So you like it?"

Theo smiled as he ran his fingers down the stitched initial on the front. "It's starting to feel a lot like Christmas, Ronald."

Ron was pleased to see that Theodore liked his sweater. He looked back to the boxes of sweaters, hoping that the rest of his friends would enjoy them as well. He then looked back to Theo, who had started toying with Tobias's invisibility cloak again.

"Do you think we should put that back? Before Tobias returns?"

"Aw come on Ron." Theo laughed. "He won't be back for another week. I think we should have some fun with this while we can."

"What kind of fun?" asked Ron, completely oblivious to what Theo had in mind.

A mischievous smile came over his face. "Hmmmmm, I dunno. I was thinking some restricted library fun."

Ron shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. We're not allowed to be in the restricted section. If we get caught—"

Theo rolled his eyes. "They can't catch us if they can't _see_ us."

Ron soon realized the depth of Theo's plan, an inaudible "oh" leaving his lips. Ron nodded in understanding, but felt a wave of nerves hit his stomach. If only the note hadn't said _use it well._

/

Christmas at the Malfoys wasn't so bad. The family and Tobias gathered in the parlor, each taking turns in opening presents. Tobias and Draco had both received broomstick cleaning kits and a box of chocolate frogs from Hermione. Theodore, Ron, and Neville gave them each a game of exploding snap. Draco's parents gave him a family heirloom, a small silver ring with their family motto engraved inside of it. Draco quickly put it on his finger, not wanting to lose his new piece of jewelry. Tobias also received a family heirloom from his grandfather, but this ring was gold. In the center was a black stone with a funny looking symbol shining in the middle. Tobias wasn't sure what the symbol meant, but he quickly put the ring on his finger—not wanting to lose his either.

For the rest of the day, Tobias and Draco stayed cooped up in their room, playing with all their new gifts. They had cleaned their brooms, making them even shinier than they were when Snape first gave it to them. Tobias had eaten both Draco's and his box of chocolate frogs, only to receive two new cards for his collection and a stomach ache. They were now playing exploding snap, which Tobias found he was really good at.

"What's that funny looking symbol on your ring?" Draco asked, staring intently at the family heirloom on his best friend's finger.

Tobias had completely forgotten he was wearing his ring. It felt so natural on his finger- as if it truly belonged to him. The black stone on top of the ring was small, but he could see the symbol inside it. It was a circle entrapped in a triangle with a line running down the middle. Tobias had never seen the symbol before, nor had he heard his grandfather speak of it.

Tobias shrugged. "I don't know."

Draco nodded. "My inscription says _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."_ He held up his ring for Tobias to see. "Purity Will Always Conquer."

Tobias was a little annoyed that Draco knew was his ring meant. All he knew was that he would find out what his ring meant one day. Though he was annoyed, he trusted his Grandfather's judgment, hoping there was a bigger meaning to his ring.

They continued to play exploding snap, then transitioned to wizard's chess. Draco was really bad at this game, really bad—Tobias knew his moves before he did, gaining the advantage in every game. Night rolled in quickly and soon the boys had resorted to laying on the floor. Tobias concluded that this Christmas wasn't so bad. He was here with his best friend and he could sleep knowing that there was some way to heal his Grandfather.

"I wonder what everybody else is doing." Draco said with a yawn. Tobias didn't say anything but closed his eyes, trying to picture what Christmas was like for his other friends. He pictured Hermione sitting on a castle of new books, reading a new one every few hours. He pictured Neville getting whatever he had forgotten for Christmas and his Grandmother scolding him for not figuring it out. He snickered at that. He picture Ron and Theodore—well he couldn't really picture them doing anything. He hadn't thought about what it was like to be at Hogwarts for the holidays, but he hoped his two friends were enjoying themselves. Maybe they were wondering about what everybody else's Christmas was like too. Tobias yawned at the thought, falling into a deep sleep.

/

"Why—the bloody hell—are we always getting chased by Filch and his cat?!"

"To be honest, I blame you, Ron."

Once again, Theodore and Ron were running for their lives down the school corridors. They had successfully made it into the restricted section of the library and began their search for any books pertaining to Nicolas Flamel. They weren't having any luck until Ron found a book on Dark Wizards, suggesting that Flamel might be in there. Theo agreed it was a good idea until Ron opened the book. A man's face popped out screaming, which caused Ron to scream as well. Theo dropped the lantern they had out of fright and that's when Filch came. Ron threw the book aside and they ran out of the library, throwing the invisibility cloak back over their heads.

They really didn't know where they were going this time. They were too far from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor common rooms. They made turns here and there, hoping to get Filch off their trail. After running for fifteen minutes, Theodore pushed them into an empty classroom—or at least they thought it was a classroom. The tables were pushed to the far side of the room, and it looked as if the teacher's desk hadn't been touched in years. The floor was covered in dust—there was no sign of textbooks anywhere. Theodore threw off the cloak, becoming entranced with something in the middle of the room.

It was a mirror. It was tall and entrapped in a gold frame. Theodore read the inscription at the top—the _Mirror of Erised._ He looked in it, only seeing himself. But he was older. He wasn't wearing Slytherin robes, but regular muggle clothing—dark denim jeans and a brown jumper. He looked happy, genuinely happy. And beside him, was an older woman who he knew to be his mother. She wasn't sick, and she was smiling as well, holding the hand of the older version of him. His father wasn't there—which explained why they were so happy. He had to show Ron.

"Ron." He whispered, still looking at the mirror. "Look."

Ron walked over, and Theodore pointed to the image in front of him. "It's me and that's—"

"Woah!" Ron exclaimed. "Look at me. I'm head boy! And I'm Quidditch captain!" He smirked. "Pretty good looking too."

Theodore looked back at the mirror, still only seeing the older version of himself and his cured mother. He furrowed his brow, wondering why Ron wasn't seeing the same thing he was. Something then clicked in his head.

"Ron."

"Yeah?"

"What if this mirror shows us the future?"

They both looked at each other, trying to reason the possibilities of why Dumbledore had a future telling mirror in the castle. Seeing as they both came to their own reasons, Theo and Ron turned back to the mirror, becoming more entranced with the images in front of them.

"Wicked."

/

The final week of the Christmas holiday had passed, and all the students were returning to Hogwarts to begin the spring semester. The six friends decided to meet in the library the day before classes started, and everyone was eager to tell what they had discovered over the holiday. Hermione went first, slamming a huge book on the table. Dust splattered everywhere, causing the five boys to cough uncontrollably.

"I never thought to look in _here_!" She said excitedly. "I checked this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

Draco flipped through the giant pages of the book. "You call this _light reading_?"

"You and I have very different opinions on what light reading is, Hermione." Theodore said amusingly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, frantically flipping through the pages of the book until the found the correct paged. "I knew it. I knew _it!"_

"Knew what?" Ron said impatiently, waiting for Hermione to get to the point.

"Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the _Philosopher's Stone!_ "

Draco cast a look at Tobias, who didn't say anything. He waited for Hermione to continue with her findings, eager to put the pieces of this puzzle together.

"The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers." Hermione read. "The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker _immortal_."

"So that's why they're trying to steal it." Ron said.

"But why would Snape and Quirrell want to live forever?" asked Theo.

"They don't," Tobias said bluntly. "My Grandfather does."

" _What?_ " The other four said in unison.

"I overheard Draco's father saying that Snape and Quirrell are trying to steal the stone for my Grandfather, which will heal him."

"Why do they have to steal it, though?" Neville asked. "Couldn't they just asked Dumbledore for it?"

"Unless Dumbledore doesn't want them to have it." Hermione said.

"Well, it is a stone that makes people immortal." Theo shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't want it to fall into the wrong hands?"

"Or maybe he wants it for himself." Draco said bitterly.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Why would he do that?"

"Think about it," Draco said. "He takes it out of Gringotts, one of the safest places in the wizarding world and moves it to Hogwarts, for it to be guarded by a _three-headed dog_. Why would he go through all that trouble if he was just going to give it to somebody who needed it?"

Hermione went silent—no matter how bad she didn't want to admit it. Draco had a point. What if Dumbledore was trying to keep the stone to himself?

"Professor Quirrell is my grandfather's doctor," Tobias said softly. "Why wouldn't Dumbledore want him to have it?"

The six sat in silence, trying to figure out why Dumbledore was keeping the stone so heavily guarded.

"In other news," Theo said, breaking the silence, "Me and Ron found a mirror that tells the future."

/

Snape and Quirrell stood around the cauldron in Snape's office, watching the potion brew—adding in different ingredients when necessary. The red potion bubbled and sizzled in the cauldron and had a metallic smell. Quirrell turned his nose up at the look of it, unsure that Snape's plan would be effective.

"Are you sure this will work?" he asked.

"Are you doubting my potion brewing abilities, Quirrell?" Snape sneered. "Do I need to remind you of who makes Lupin's potion every full moon to keep him from hurting himself?"

Quirrell shivered at the thought of Lupin's other form. "Right. When will it be done?"

"The end of the year, when the Dark Lord is expecting the stone."

"And it will look exactly the same?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "You ask too many questions, Quirrell."

Quirrell laughed bitterly. "My apologies. It's only my life that's at stake."

"The fake stone will look exactly as the real one. The Dark Lord won't know the difference."

"But it won't grant him immortality."

"Fortunately for him," Snape sneered as her stirred the potion some more. "We won't be trying to kill him anytime soon, for the sake of the boy."

"Right." Quirrell said quietly. He grew silent watching his colleague tend to the potion. He could see the pain in his eyes—using his skill to save the life of a man who killed the love of his life. It was twisted—the way Dumbledore was using him. If Severus knew he was being used or not, it did not matter—this was for her.

"She would be proud of you." He said softly. "Lily."

Snape tensed at the sound of her name. "I highly doubt that."

"You're risking your life to save her son."

"Only because I was too much of a coward to save her when I had the chance." He snapped back. He turned to Quirrell, fire burning in his eyes, his blood boiling, his heart aching. "Now if you are done reminding me of my past mistakes, we should return to the matter at hand."

He whipped his robes back around, facing the cauldron once more. Quirrell could see his body shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't dare move. Severus was one of the bravest men he knew—one of the strongest he knew. But only one thing could break him, and it was her. Lily.


	10. SS10: Muggle-ish Rage

Hey, what are you gonna do?

When those walls are falling down

Falling down on you

~ Walls x Beck

Chapter 10: Muggle-ish Rage

Theo and Ron had convinced the rest to follow them that night to see their future telling mirror. They traveled in groups of three under Tobias's invisibility cloak, seeing that all six of them couldn't fit under it together. They met at the library, pretending they had been there to work on their project. With Theo leading, they would slip into the aisles of books and disappear under the cloak.

Once they all made it to the deserted classroom, Ron carefully closed the door. The six stood around the mirror—nobody knowing what to expect except Theo and Ron. Hermione stood farthest from the mirror, her arms crossed as she eyed the five boys.

"Are you sure we are allowed to be down here?" She asked.

Theo smirked. "I'm sure we won't get caught being down here."

"That isn't the same thing."

Tobias tuned out Hermione's and Theodore's conversation. He walked towards the mirror first, desperate to see the future. Would he be the heir? Was his grandfather alive? At first he only saw himself, but then a man and a woman appeared beside him. The woman was a lighter color than him, and she had unruly, curly black hair. She wore jet black robes and black heeled boots. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning either. She just looked intently at Tobias on the other side of the mirror. The man was doing the same. He wore the black robes known to be the robes of his grandfather's followers. Tobias felt his throat go dry—he was looking at his parents.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Ron said as he stood beside Tobias.

This didn't make sense. This mirror was supposed to tell the future, yet is father was standing beside him in his reflection.

"This mirror doesn't tell the future." He said lowly, becoming disappointed with the image in front of him.

Theodore's smiled dropped. "But it has to."

Tobias turned to face the other five, all who were wondering what Tobias had seen in the mirror. "I saw my father in the mirror." He saw his friends tense up, and Hermione dropped her hands to her side.

"How can this mirror show the future, if my father is dead?" He turned back to the mirror, looking back at the images of his mother and father. This was a cruel trick, but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. They were here, with him. He felt his eyes begin to water, quickly wiping away the tears that threatened to form. He walked away from the mirror and sat in one of the old desks, waiting for everyone to finish.

Tobias came back the next night, alone. Yesterday, he had been disappointed by what he saw, mainly because he was looking forward to seeing the future. But it was the fact that he was seeing his parents. Though they were just reflections, they felt more real than the portraits of him at home. He sat in front of the mirror, staring at them—for how long he didn't know. His heart ache to actually meet them, but he knew that he couldn't. This was all he had.

"Enjoying ourselves, Tobias?"

Tobias quickly stood up, taking out his wand and pointing it near the direction of the voice. He soon felt his cheeks grow red once he realized it was Professor Dumbledore he was pointing his wand at. Dumbledore was sitting in one of the desk in the far corner of the room. Tobias returned his wand back to his robes, internally cursing himself for getting caught.

"I—I didn't see you, sir."

Dumbledore didn't say anything, but Tobias was relieved to see that the old professor was smiling. He rose from his seat and walked over to Tobias, placing himself right next to him.

"So you have discovered the Mirror of Erised." He looked down to the dark-haired boy beside him. "Am I correct to assume you've realized by now what it does?"

Tobias opened his mouth to answer, but he really wasn't sure what the mirror did. Before he believed that it showed him the future, but now. "It—well – it shows me my parents, but—"

"It showed Ronald Weasley as head boy and Theodore Nott's cured mother."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Professor, how did you-?"

"Forgive me," Dumbledore said gently. "But I have been watching you all interact with the mirror since Mister Nott and Mister Weasley found it. This mirror shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate thought of our hearts. You see your family, because you have never known them. Mister Weasley, who is overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself as the greatest of them all."

"And what about Theodore?"

Dumbledore went silent for a moment. "Mister Nott's is more complicated. But if I am to guess, he sees his mother in full health because he feels as if it is his fault she is sick. And his father isn't there, because they can't truly be happy with him."

"Why would Theodore feel like it's his fault?" Tobias asked. Theodore was never the person to feel guilty or dwell on feelings.

"I can't answer that." Dumbledore said. "This mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing what it shows is real or even possible."

Tobias nodded, truly understanding the meaning of the mirror.

"This mirror will be moved tomorrow and I must ask you and your friends, Tobias, to never go looking for it again. Is that understood?"

Tobias nodded.

"But if you ever do come across it again, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that." He then turned away, making his way to walk out of the deserted classroom.

"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Tobias, turning around as well. "May I asked you a question?"

Dumbledore turned around, smiling once more. "You just did. But you may ask me one more thing."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Dumbledore paused. "I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Tobias furrowed his brow. Obviously this wasn't the truth, but who was he to question the headmaster of Hogwarts. Dumbledore must've know Tobias saw right through him, but only smiled again and turned to walk out of the classroom. Tobias turned back to the mirror, trying to capture the image of his parents standing before him one last time. He then grabbed his cloak and threw it over his head, leaving the class room.

/

Blaise Zabini. Pureblood prince, or at least that's what his mother called him. Nobody gave him the accolades he deserved, with him being fourth in line of the pureblood heirs of his generation. Tobias LeStrange, of course, was at the top—his life destined to be the Heir of the Dark Lord. Draco Malfoy was next, only because his father was one of the Dark Lord's faithful followers. Theodore Nott, was third in line—his father being one of the Dark Lord's most favorable pureblood supremacists. All their fathers had been Death Eater's, except his. He was only fourth in line because Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to fall into the Dark Lord's ranks.

He tried to be friends with the top three heirs, but he couldn't do it. After the incident at flying lessons, it wouldn't be an exaggeration that he hated them. The way LeStrange and Malfoy took up for that pathetic Gryffindor, Longbottom. The way Malfoy hung around that bushy- haired freak, Granger. A true pureblood heir never showed sympathy to the enemy, and always stayed true to their side. From that point on, Zabini saw them as poor excuses for heirs. He believed he should've been the true heir of the Dark Lord.

He was walking to the library, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. He saw his two goons as accomplishments, seeing as they pledged their loyalty to Malfoy first. He walked to the back of the library, trying to find a table that he could work in peace. As he made his way to the back, he heard voices—two familiar voices at that. LeStrange and Granger. He grimaced, shooing Crabbe and Goyle away so he could easily creep and hear the conversation. He stood behind one of the book shelves, pretending to be looking for a book as he listened to his two enemies' conversation.

"So how does Christmas work, in the muggle world?" He heard LeStrange ask.

"It's pretty much the same as you wizards do." Granger answered. "We put up a Christmas tree, decorate it, wrap presents and put them under the tree."

"You don't have house elves to do that for you?"

Granger giggled. "No, I'm afraid us muggles don't have the luxury, if you can even call it a luxury," She said under her breath. "of house elves."

Blaise tore his ear away from the conversation. Granger was a muggle. _A muggle._ Not only was the Granger girl a mudblood, but Tobias was conversing with her about their customs. And even worse, he seemed intrigued. It disgusted him—it was a disgrace to the Slytherin house. To purebloods alike. And Malfoy stuck beside her as if she was a trophy. An evil grin then fell on his lips. Did Malfoy even know? Did the rest of her precious little gang know?

"What are you doing here Zabini?" He heard a voice growl behind him.

Blaise turned to see the Weasley boy standing behind him. He assumed that he was making his way to sit at the table with LeStrange and Granger. Blaise only smiled at him, putting on his mask of pureblood politeness.

"I hardly see why that is any of your concern, Weasley." And with that he pushed passed him, walking towards the table Crabbe and Goyle had found on the other side of the library. If they didn't know Granger was a mudblood now, they would find out soon.

/

The first Saturday after the break came, and the second Quidditch match of the season for Slytherin was in a couple hours. The match was against Ravenclaw, and if Slytherin won, they would be one match away from the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup. Tobias and Draco entered the Great Hall, cheers from the Slytherin table and other Slytherin supporters filled their ears as they walked to the table. The cheers were so loud you could barely hear the 'boos' from the Ravenclaw house.

They made their way to the end of the Gryffindor table, where they were greeted by their four friends. Draco sat beside Hermione and Tobias sat between Theodore and Ron. Theodore had his usual unbothered appearance on his face, but Ron looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"What's pulling your leg, Weasley?" Draco asked, picking up a piece of toast.

"You didn't hear." He said surprised.

Tobias shook his head. "Heard what?"

Ron leaned over the table as if he was holding You-Know-Who's darkest secret. "Snape's referring at the match."

Tobias soon felt sick to his stomach, he felt his body tense and all the excitement he held for today's match quickly evaporated. He felt everyone's eyes boring into him. Snape was the reason he almost fell off his broom in the last match—now he was referring?!

"Don't play." Hermione pleaded.

"Say you're ill," Neville suggested.

"Pretend to break your leg." Draco offered.

" _Really_ break your leg." Theodore said humorously.

Tobias put his head in his hands. "I can't. There isn't a replacement seeker. If I back out, Slytherin forfeits the game."

Nobody said anything, Slytherin couldn't forfeit—they were too close to winning the cup. Their silence was interrupted as Blaise and his goons came around to the table, laughing.

"Don't worry LeStrange," He said wickedly, "if your broom malfunctions this time, you can always use it the _muggle_ way."

"Get out of here Zabini." Draco sneered.

Blaise walked away, Crabbe and Goyle snickering behind him. Tobias looked at Hermione, who had completely gone pale. _Zabini knew._ How did he find out?

"What did Zabini mean, by the _muggle_ way?" Ron asked curiously.

Tobias continued to stare at Hermione, and she finally met his gaze, tears sparkling in her eyes. They both knew that whatever Zabini had planned it wouldn't be pretty. He wouldn't let that happened to Hermione. She wanted to tell everyone when she was ready, and he would give her that. But she kept her gaze on him, perhaps wondering if he would tell the others what Zabini really meant.

"I have no idea." He finally said, watching as the color returned to Hermione's face. "Come on Draco, we have to go."

Ron and the others still seemed confused about what happened, but shrugged it off as everyone began to leave for the match. Hermione lagged behind, trying to figure out how Zabini found out about her. Theodore must've noticed because he turned around.

"You alright, Hermione?"

She came out of her reverie to notice him, Ron, and Neville staring at her. She tried to look unbothered as she put on her best smile.

"Yeah, never better."

"Then come on, we're going to miss the match." He said, looping his arm in hers and rushing her to the Quidditch pitch.

/

If Tobias wasn't nervous before, he was now. Nobody stopped the Heir of the Dark Lord from completing a task. Nobody intimidated him. But here was Snape, wearing his usual black robes and floating on a broom with the whistle around his neck. His eyes watched the field intently, oblivious to the cheers and screams around him. He looked hungry—hungry to produce some Tobias- directed dark magic.

"This is Lee Jordan once again. Today's match: SLYTHERIN VS RAVENCLAW!"

Tobias could barely hear the cheers as he walked onto the field—his green eyes following Snape.

"Blimey, the whole bloody school's out there." Adrian Pucey said. "Even Dumbledore is here."

Tobias barely heard it, but Draco looked up and indeed saw the old professor sitting in the teacher's stand. No one could miss that awfully long beard.

Hermione watched the Slytherin team through her binoculars, mostly Tobias and Draco. Her eyes darted between them and Professor Snape, who had not moved from his position since the two teams first arrived on the field. She was so focused on the three that she didn't notice Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle sit directly behind her. She shivered as Zabini put his mouth to her ear, snickering lowly.

"Binoculars, Granger?" He sneered. "How very _muggle-ish_ of you."

She shrugged him off her, trying her best to ignore his jeer. It didn't matter if Zabini knew or not, he obviously didn't have the gall to broadcast it to everyone. Her choice to ignore Zabini must've bothered him, because he continued with his banter.

"Wonder how long LeStrange's going to stay on his broom this time?" He said obnoxiously, his goal for everyone to hear him. Hermione felt her blood boil. "Anyone want to bet? What about you, Weasley? Seeing as you have all the money in the world."

Ron ignored him.

"What about you, Longbottom? What do you bet LeStrange falls harder than you did at flying lessons?"

Neville didn't answer, but his face went horribly red. He tried to stay focused on the game—Snape had just called a penalty for Slytherin because one of the beaters hit Flint. He tried to focus on the 'boos' and jeers coming from the Ravenclaw side of the field—but it didn't stop Zabini.

"How about you, Theodore? How much do you want to bet that LeStrange stays in the hospital wing longer than your mother's been at St. Mungo's?"

Hermione felt her heart stop. Ron's face went redder than it had ever been, his nerves on the verge of supernova. Neville could hardly breathe as Crabbe and Golye roared with laughter. They all turned their heads to look at Theodore, who had gone completely pale. His body went rigid—he seemed out of it, emotionless, as if he was dead inside.

"And I believe LeStrange has spotted the snitch!" said Lee Jordan over the intercom, but it hardly mattered now.

"You take that back, Zabini." Ron said dangerously low, turning to face the tan-skinned Slytherin.

"LeStrange is going for the dive, will he catch the snitch?"

Zabini stood up, a nasty smirk on his face. "Or what, Weasley?"

Ron balled his fist, preparing to give Zabini what he finally deserved. Hermione focused on Tobias, not wanting to see how this would end. She watched him streak towards the ground, his hand reaching for the golden ball in front of him.

"He's almost there." Lee Jordan continued.

Theodore soon stood up, it looked as if he rose from the dead. He turned to look at Zabini, who was still smirking at Ron. He then turned to look at Theo, and his smirk quickly fell. Ron noticed his change in expression—it looked as if Zabini was afraid. He turned to Theo and soon realized why. Theodore look different, he looked deadly—his face was a ghostly pale and you could literally see the veins emerging from his temple. There were tears in his eyes and his fists were clenched so tight, his knuckles turned white. Neville winced at the appearance of him, scooting as close to Hermione as he could.

"AND TOBIAS LESTRANGE HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, SLYTHERIN WINS"

As the Slytherin house stood up to cheer and celebrate, Theodore lunged at Zabini. Ron and Neville tried to pull them apart but it was no use, Theodore was apparently really strong. They watched as the two boys wrestled in the stands, Theo getting a good punch in every now and then. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop—he didn't want to stop. He couldn't hear anything—not Hermione's screams for them to stop, not the cheers for the Slytherin team, not Zabini's screams for help—nothing. All he could see was the horrid Slytherin through his tears. He felt his rage reaching its peak when the two were forcefully pushed apart. Zabini scrambled away, his goons trampling behind him and Theodore looked up to see Hermione holding her wand, tears running down her face as well. Ron and Neville had left the stands, running to follow Zabini to make sure he didn't cause any trouble for Theodore. She held out her hand to him, and he took it immediately, already starting to regret his recent outburst.

"Let's go for a walk." She said, and Theodore slowly nodded—his anger subsiding by the minute.

Tobias jumped off his broom, running towards his teammates. They greeted him with cheers and head bumps—Pansy Parkinson once again placing a fat kiss on his cheek. He looked to the teachers stand to see Dumbledore giving him a thumbs up, and then to Snape who had returned to the ground, walking away swiftly from the pitch.

"Guess he's upset that he didn't get to play any tricks this time." Draco whispered as he walked by.

/

Hermione and Theodore were the last of the crowd to return to the castle. Hermione felt like Theodore needed to cool off—and the fact that she was afraid he would lose his temper once again. She was relieved that no one stopped to talk to them, or bothered Theodore—his face was still pale and the tears kept rolling down his cheeks. She led them down the corridor opposite from the Great Hall. Theodore hardly paid any attention to where she was taking him until he was sitting on top of a sink in the girl's bathroom.

Hermione sat on the loo directly across from him, her eyes staring intently at his features. Theodore knew where this was leading to, and he didn't like it. He cleared his throat, trying to sound like his usual nonchalant self as much as possible.

"Is there any reason why you brought me to the girl's bathroom? I kind of made a promise to Merlin that I wouldn't come in here anymore."

Hermione shrugged. "I thought we could use some privacy." _Duh Theo._

He scratched the back of his head, he needed to get out of here. "Look, Hermione—about earlier—"

"Your mother is sick."

Theodore dropped his hand, and he felt dead inside once more. He wasn't expecting her to say that—he was expecting her to ask what happened. But of course, he was looking at Hermione Granger, who probably figured it out earlier at the match.

"She's been sick for a while." He said it barely above a whisper. "It's nothing."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "It didn't look like nothing—the way you were trying to kill Zabini."

Theodore turned red, remembering the previous incident. "I wasn't going to _kill_ him." He then looked up at her, seeing that she wasn't convinced. He could see it in her eyes that she was worried, the same look his mother has when she looks at him. He couldn't take it—this was his secret. No one was supposed to know. Especially not Tobias and Draco.

"Promise you won't tell them." He said quickly.

Hermione dropped her hands to her side. "Theodore, you have an anger problem." She said softly, wondering why he would want to keep it a secret.

He ignored her. "They'll deny me as an heir—they'll see me as unfit. I have to be worthy, Hermione. I have to be." He could feel the dread taking over his body.

"Why, Theodore? We can get you some help."

"I don't need help!" He screamed. She didn't understand, and he couldn't explain to her. He needed to be worthy for the Dark Lord. An heir had no weaknesses—no flaws. But he had one, and if it was exposed he would be a disgrace to the House of Nott. He would be a failure to his father—there would be no hope for his mother. He could feel his breaths becoming heavier as he gave into his emotions once more.

Hermione watched him fall apart once again. She could see the desperation in his eyes, the fear. This was what hid beneath the cool and collective Theodore Nott. A frightened and angry child. And as much as she wanted to know why, this was not the time to try to dissect him. He was vulnerable in front of her—something she had never seen a Slytherin become. This trait wasn't in the books she read or in the conversations she heard. This was something completely different.

"Please don't tell them." He croaked. "If they find out, I won't be able to save her."

Despite everything she stood for, Hermione nodded. It was dangerous, what Theodore was doing. Holding his anger in, because it came out in a flood when he snapped. He didn't see how he was when he attacked Blaise, but she did. She was afraid of Theo in that moment. Ron and Neville barely wanted to touch him. But despite that, here he was begging her to keep his anger a secret. He was asking her to give up the opportunity to help him. And she didn't know why, but she was accepting his request.

"I won't tell."

Theodore sighed in relief.

"Only if you let me help you."

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you, Hermione?" He groaned. Hermione stuck out her chin, confirming that fact, and Theo knew he would have to give in.

"Deal."

/

Voldemort stared at the silver liquid swirling in the glass bottle. He refused to continue taking Quirrell's medicine, but he needed something to keep himself steady for the next few months. He made Lucius dig up some of his old black market contacts and got in touch with one Amycus Carrow. Carrow wore black robes, as many black market vendors did and he had a slick, long goatee. Voldemort picked up the bottle, examining the liquid closely.

"Unicorn Blood?" he asked casually, his eyes never leaving the bottle.

Carrow nodded. "Yes, my Lord. This batch was recently made, as well."

"And this will heal me?"

"Yes…..but"

Voldemort lowered the bottle, his eyes meeting the man across from him. "But what?"

Carrow swallowed. "You see, it has….side effects."

"As most Black Market items do." Answered Voldemort, seeming unbothered by the man's warning.

"Once you drink it, My Lord, you won't be able to stop." Carrow said sheepishly. "It can become addictive."

The Dark Lord set down the bottle, lacing his hands together. "That will be the least of my worries. I will have something more substantial by the end of June." He glanced back down at the bottle of Unicorn Blood. "For now, this will do."

The man across from him nodded. He rose from his seat to leave, but the look on Voldemort's face made him sit back down. Voldemort looked at the man intently, an idea sprouting into his mind. He felt his eyes boring into Carrow's skin, burning the very fabric of his robes. Carrow looked uneasy, unaware of what was about to happen next.

"Open it." Carrow almost shivered as the high-pitch voice of the Dark Lord rang through the silence of the room. He did as he was told, unscrewing the top of the bottle—unleashing a metallic aroma from the substance inside.

Voldemort took the bottle, raising it to his mouth. The feel of the glass was cold against his lips and he could see the metal liquid slowly sliding down as he began to drink it. The Unicorn Blood also had a metallic taste to it but was warm as it trickled down his throat. As soon as he swallowed the first drop, he felt his health instantly improve. He felt stronger, more powerful. His body no longer ached, he felt as if he could stand on his own again. But he couldn't put the bottle down, he had to finish the whole thing. The results were more satisfying than he had expected—better results than Quirrell's medicine had given.

He finished the last of the blood, gently sitting the bottle back on the table. He felt regenerated, he felt—free. It was now time to test his strength—to prove if these results were real, and not just a figment of his imagination. He pulled his wand out of his robes, becoming intrigued with the sharp grip he had on it—the magical energy surging through his veins. He felt as strong as he did those eleven years ago when he had the whole wizarding world at his command. He felt unstoppable. He needed more—he _wanted more._

Voldemort slowly aimed his wand at the man sitting across from, watching his pupils grow wider with fear.

"My Lord."

"Crucio." He simply said.

There was an ear-splitting scream and Carrow collapsed on the floor. Voldemort ignored his muffled screams and groans of pain. He was too wrapped up in his returning power. Even after the curse, he still felt his magic radiating, ready for more. Why hadn't he done this earlier? He looked back to the glass bottle, now cursing himself internally for drinking the whole thing. He quickly rose from his study, walking over to the tortured man.

"Where can I get more?!" He asked, his voice at a dangerously low whisper.

Carrow looked at him as if he was mad, but winced when Voldemort pulled out his wand again. "The Forbidden Forrest," He said quickly. "At Hogwarts."

The Dark Lord felt his excitement wither away. Of course, something of this proportion would be at Hogwarts. Dumbledore always made sure substances and magical items such as Unicorn Blood were locked away in the walls of his beloved castle. He felt his reasoning becoming clouded, but he ignored it. He needed more of the metallic substance. And if Hogwarts was where he could find it, Hogwarts was where he would go.

/

Spring was starting to roll in, and the students of Hogwarts were beginning to prepare for exams. Everyone was given a piece of parchment from each one of their classes—stating what topics they needed to look over for their end of the year exams. Hermione took no time to color code her parchment—labeling topics that had already been covered in green, and topics that she needed to research in orange. None of the boys had even glanced at their parchment, seeing that exams were months away. But nonetheless, Hermione had convinced—or rather told—them to meet up in the library to begin on their DADA project. The bossy Gryffindor complained how they had been using all their time trying to solve the "Philosopher's Stone" mystery, that they had forgotten what led them there in the first place.

The six resided to their table near the back of the library. Hermione had sent Draco off to look for more books on magical stones, especially ones pertaining to the Philosopher's Stone and Nicolas Flamel. Theodore was looking through a book about dark magic and how it can be used through different objects. Neville was reading through September 1st's Daily Prophet, looking for anything that might pass as a motive for someone who wanted to steal the stone. Tobias and Ron were in charge of charming a piece of parchment so that it would become larger, but so far nothing. Ron kept making the parchment levitate, and the only spells Tobias knew were defense tactics.

"Here." Draco breathed out, dropping a pile of books on the table. The noise was so loud, the six were sure that Madam Pince would kick them out. But she only scolded them, mostly Draco, for not handling the books with _care._

Hermione looked through the books, pleased that Draco was able to find some books they could use for the project. She divided the books up between her and the blonde Slytherin and they began their research. She looked up, smiling as all the boys were doing some type of work. She never thought she would see the day when Ron and Theodore actually took the time to do something productive. She was surprised when Draco opened one of the books and began reading it without protesting. Neville was doing something that didn't involve the risk of him hurting himself, and Tobias had found a task that he couldn't conquer. It felt weird watching them all do work, it felt unnatural.

"Okay. Stop." She said, causing the five boys to look at her.

"Oh thank Merlin," said Theodore, quickly closing the book and laying his head on the table. Hermione felt relieved that she hadn't really lost her mind.

"What's up, Granger?" Draco asked.

"It was just," She bit her lip, feeling embarrassed. "you all were doing work."

Tobias smirked. "Were not always lazy blokes."

"Yeah, Hermione." Ron said as he propped his legs on top of the work table. "We're aren't always lazy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's get to dinner."

"Guess I'll put these books back." Draco said, and he gathered all of them and walked back towards the bookshelves. But as he was returning the books to their respective places, he noticed someone sneaking through the library—someone who was too big to be a student.

"Hagrid?" He asked as he approached the gamekeeper.

Hagrid turned around quickly, hiding the books he just picked up behind his back. "Draco! What are yeh doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's behind your back?"

"Uhhh nothing." Hagrid lied. He tried to hide the books in his cloak, but Draco was too fast for him—his chaser skills kicking in. He snatched the books out of Hagrid's hands, hastily reading the covers.

" _Dragons?!"_ He said, not realizing how loud he was speaking. Hagrid shushed him desperately, not wanting anyone to hear their conversation.

Draco lowered his voice. "Hagrid, why are you looking up Dragons?"

"Look." Hagrid said quickly, grabbing the books back and putting them in his cloak. "I'll explain everything at detention tonight. But 'til then, I need you to be quiet about this. Understand?"

Draco nodded, only agreeing to hush the subject because Hagrid kept looking around the library, checking to see if anyone heard them.

That night at detention, Draco and Tobias showed up at Hagrid's hut. Draco hadn't told Tobias about his discovery in the library, keeping his promise to Hagrid. When they entered, Draco felt like he would pass out any moment. It was scorching inside the hut—Hagrid had no windows opened, the curtains were closed, the door was locked. Draco felt he was literally in hell.

"Hagrid, any reason you decided to burn us to death tonight?" Tobias asked, removing his robe and his Slytherin sweater and throwing it aside.

"I was cold, is all." Hagrid said, fumbling with his fingers.

Draco sat there, wondering when Hagrid would come forward with the truth. But was becoming annoyed as Tobias unexpectedly chose to change the subject.

"Hagrid we know about the Philosopher's Stone." Tobias said it so straightforwardly, Hagrid almost fell out of his seat. Tobias ignored it and continued. "We know Fluffy is guarding it and we were wondering if you could tell us what else is guarding it as well."

Draco suddenly became intrigued. He had completely forgotten about the stone, so caught up in the dragons Hagrid had become so interested in. He sat back in his seat, watching the scene play out.

"I told you, it's top secret." Hagrid frowned. "Plus, you know too much already. To be honest, I don't know nothin'."

"You're lying." Draco said.

"You best to watch your tone with me, Malfoy." Hagrid tried to sound stern but huffed as the two boys seemed unconvinced.

Tobias undid his tie, throwing it aside with his other clothing. "You may not want to tell us, Hagrid. But you _do_ know something. Besides, were not asking for technicalities, just simply wanting to know who else Dumbledore trusted to help guard the stone."

Hagrid sighed in frustration, he knew there was nothing he could say to the two Slytherins that would get them off his trail. "Fine. I s'pose telling yeh wouldn't hurt." Draco and Tobias beamed at his words. "Dumbledore borrowed Fluffy from me…. He got the teachers to set up enchantments—Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor Snape."

" _Snape?"_ The two boys said it at the same time.

"Yes, Snape." Hagrid said. "You two not still on that, are yeh? Boys, Snape is helping to _protect_ the stone, there's no way he would be plottin' to steal it."

Tobias wasn't convinced, once again, but the heat from the hut distracted him once again, causing him to unbutton his oxford shirt. "Hagrid, can we please open a window? I'm literally boiling."

"Sorry, Tobias, but I can't do that." Said Hagrid as he looked towards the fire. Tobias and Draco looked too, noticing a huge kettle hanging above it. Something was in the inside—something huge and black… and circular. Draco's eyes grew wider at the sight of it.

"Hagrid, is that an _egg?_ "

Hagrid began fumbling with his fingers again. "Well, ah. Yes, that is an egg."

"That's a dragon egg!" Tobias exclaimed, leaning over the table to get a closer look. "Where'd you get it?"

"I won it." Hagrid said proudly, quickly forgetting he was supposed to be hiding the fact he had a dragon egg in his hut. "Went to the pub last night and won it in a game o' cards against some chap. He was happy to get rid of it too, I think."

"So that's why you were in the library?" asked Draco. Hagrid nodded.

Tobias shook his head. "But what are you going to do when it hatches? You can't keep it here, it's against our laws!"

Hagrid frowned. "I bloody well can keep it here! That's why I've been in the library. I've been reading up on how to take care of it. I got the first part right." He pointed to the fire. "Keep the egg in the fire until it hatches, and when it does, feed it a bucket o' brandy and chicken blood every half hour. Doesn't seem so hard."

Tobias and Draco were absolutely dumbfounded by Hagrid's ignorance to this dragon. It was against the law to have one, yet raise one in a _school_. But leave it to Hagrid to find a way to make it work.

"And see here, I learned how to recognize different dragons by the egg patterns. This one's a Norwegian Ridgeback. Very rare."

Draco raised his fingers to his temple as if he had a headache. "Hagrid, you do realize you live in a _wooden house?_ "

Hagrid wasn't listening.


	11. SS11: The Secret Dragon Trade

I need another story

Something to get off my chest

My life gets kinda boring

Need something that I can confess

~ Secrets x OneRepublic

Chapter 11: The Secret Dragon Trade

The forbidden forest was dark and quiet. There were only a few patches of light shining through every few or so trees—the moonlight making its way through the forest openings. But through those small patches of light, a shadow of a man could be seen striding through the forest. He walked swiftly—unafraid of the creatures and monsters that came out at night. His wand was tucked away in his robes, ready to be drawn if the situation presented itself. But the night was as calm as it was dark. He made his way towards the clearing, as he approached the other hooded figure waiting for him.

"You're late." Snape sneered.

"Sorry, I got held up." Quirrell said as he removed his hood. He went to stand beside his colleague and fellow Death Eater. He and Snape were not inducted together, but they had been on a few missions and Quirrell highly respected him. But he could see that Snape regretted getting the mark, as did he. He took it out of a desperate quest for power, to want more—for knowledge. Voldemort—or Tom Riddle—had convinced him to join his ranks—in the promise of all the knowledge in the wizarding world. But what he received was a fate worse than selling your soul to the devil.

Snape, on the other hand, did it as most Death Eater's did—seeing it as a duty, or being young and stupid as he was. Snape didn't realize his mistake until it costed him the love of his life. After that, Quirrell could see the pain in his eyes every time they suited up for a mission. He slowly saw the young, noble Severus Snape—top of the Dark Lord's ranks—turn into something darker, colder. He saw the meaning of life leave Snape's eyes as if he had been hit with the killing curse. Maybe he had been, that unforgettable night eleven years ago. Quirrell remembered celebrating with his fellow members as he eyed Severus at a table sitting alone, his face indifferent—something changed in him that night. He hadn't signed up for this, nobody had.

"Have you figured out how to get past the dog?"

Quirrell cleared his throat. "Music. If I remember correctly, that's was Hagrid said."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean if you remember correctly?"

"He was awfully drunk." Quirrell chuckled. "But after I gave him the egg, he was very….open."

Snape grunted. "And you honestly believe giving him a _dragon_ was a good idea?"

Quirrell shrugged. "We got the information we needed. Have you figured out the other's enchantments, yet?"

"Flitwick's is simple. McGonagall's is a little harder to get around, seeing as I don't have the patience to play games, and of course, I've figured out mine."

Snape looked to the man beside him, who nodded at his answer. Snape was still baffled at why Quirrell chose to become a Death Eater. He was so young, younger than he was when he was inducted. He remembered a boy of sixteen coming to the Dark Lord, begging for knowledge in the dark arts that no one ever knew. And Voldemort abused his greatest desire, using him to increase his numbers. Quirrell didn't find out the extent of his commitment until several years later, which was longer than most inductees. He remembered the night Voldemort sent him on a mission to round up a few muggles—just for the hell of it, the order was laying low and everyone had become restless with no one to torture. He remembered Quirrell's face as Dolohov and Greyback brought in a fairly older woman. She had brown hair and blue eyes, her light skin shining in the light. She was terrified, her voice cracking as she looked to Quirrell—pleading for him to help her. His face went completely pale—as if he would be sick. At that moment, Snape saw Quirrell face the reality of what a Death Eater really meant. He watched Quirrell flinch as the Dark Lord whispered in his ear for him to kill her. The room filled with laughter and ridicule—the word 'mudblood' being thrown around like it was everyday slang, his comrades cheering him on. Snape watched as Quirrell stiffly raised his arm, pointing the wand at the woman. Snape couldn't hear him, but saw him mouth the words, a green light ejecting from his wand. Quirrell retched uncontrollably the rest of the night—it wasn't until months later when Severus found out that he had killed his own mother.

Snape looked at the man now—he was much different from the boy he met those many years ago. He was much more mature, much more patient. He now saw the world for what it truly was, but never allowed it to ruin his good-nature. To be truly honest, Snape admired the man. Despite his mistakes, he never let the mark defeat him, as Snape let his do.

"Is there any reason you won't allow me to go with you?" asked Snape, curiously.

"If anything goes wrong, the boy needs someone to trust." His colleague replied simply.

"And you think that person is me?"

You're his head of house. Plus, isn't that part of your condition?"

Snape frowned, "How did you-?"

"Nobody told me if that's what you're wondering. But why else would you join the Order? Coincidental timing." Quirrell said casually.

Snape was silent. Coincidental it was, though he never truly realized it. The Dark Lord never recognized it and never would—the way Snape slandered Lily's name when Voldemort hinted that he loved her. But that was no reason for Quirrell to put his life at stake.

"You're saying all this as if you aren't coming back."

Quirrell chucked. "Caring for me, now, are you Severus?" He then sighed. "We both know I don't have anything to live for."

"And I do?"

Quirrell looked up at the black- haired man beside him. "You owe it to her Severus. You owe it to yourself. To prove to her that you're the man she always believed in—that she knew you could be."

/

 _It's Hatching_

Draco threw the note on the table, meaning for Tobias to read it but Theodore was too quick. He snatched up the paper and read it, raising an eyebrow at the simple note.

"It's hatching?" Theodore asked. "Are you guys hiding an illegal dragon somewhere?" He asked playfully, putting his chin between the palms of his hands.

"Hagrid has one." Said Tobias, scooping a spoonful of peas in his mouth. Theodore dropped his hands, looking at the two Slytherins.

"I was joking."

"Hagrid has a _dragon_?" Hermione asked, her eyebrow raised at Draco.

"Wicked." Ron said, a smile beaming on his face.

"Keep your voices down." Draco snapped.

"What kind is it?" ask Neville.

"Norwegian Ridgeback." Tobias replied.

Theodore rose out of his seat, grabbing his backpack. "Well let's go see it."

"No." Hermione said bossily, causing Theodore to flop back in his seat. "We have lessons, we'll get in trouble."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come on, Hermione. How many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon-?" Ron was soon interrupted as Tobias slapped a hand over his mouth. Blaise walked past their table, and Tobias was unaware if he was listening to their conversation or not—and if he was, how much he heard.

Draco glared at the two Gryffindors. "I told you two to keep your voices down."

But that didn't stop Ron and Hermione from arguing all the way to Herbology. Hermione was determined in her stand to finishing their lessons instead of visiting Hagrid and Ron was intent on skipping class and going to see the dragon. Right now, Hermione was out voted, seeing as all the boys wanted to go see the dragon. But once Draco finally gave into her reasoning, the rest did as well. Ron kept his eyes on the clock as Professor Sprout went on and on about some type of plant used to cure splattergriot. Neville was eagerly intrigued in the lesson, seeing that Herbology was the only class he was able to remain unharmed in. His grades were even at level with Hermione's, and that was saying something.

The bell rung and the five boys sprinted to Hagrid's hut, Hermione trailing right behind them. Tobias knocked on the door, and Hagrid rushed them inside—unaware of how many students he just let in. Draco and Tobias took their usual seats at the table. Hermione sat on Hagrid's bed between Ron and Neville, and Theodore sat on the floor, petting Hagrid's dog, Fang.

Hagrid eyes grew wider as he realized how many people were actually in his hut. He had been so excited he didn't realize he had so much company. A mixture of Slytherins and Gryffindors. What a strange set.

"I never realized you two had so many friends." Hagrid said, looking from each student, his eyes finally resting on Theodore who was hugging Fang's neck. "I guess it's time for more introductions. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, but you lot can call me Hagrid."

"Neville Longbottom." Said Neville.

"Ron Weasley." Ron said through a mouthful of a chocolate frog.

Hermione scooted closer to Neville, not impressed by the way Ron was eating his candy. "Hermione Granger."

"Theodore Nott, but you can call me Theo." Theodore said as he continued to pet Fang.

Hagrid nodded to each of the first years. His attention was soon diverted as the fire crackled again. Hagrid rushed over to the kettle. He quickly put on his oven mitts and grabbed the large black egg out of the kettle, setting it on the table.

"It's nearly out." Hagrid said with excitement.

The egg was now lying on the table, there were cracks everywhere. The six could see something moving inside the egg through the cracks, a soft clicking noise coming from it. They all scooted closer to the egg, watching as the dragon made its final breakthrough. There was a scraping noise and the egg cracked opened, revealing the baby dragon.

"Isn't he _beautiful_?" Hagrid said dreamily.

Tobias smiled weakly at the dragon. It wasn't what he expected, but then again what was he expecting? It was Hagrid. The dragon was black and crumpled. It had spiny wings and orange eyes, which were wide and bulky. Neville took a step back, uncomfortable with being this close to it. Hagrid reached a hand out to pet it, and the dragon snapped at his fingers, revealing his large white fangs. Theodore laughed with glee.

"Look," said Hagrid, "he knows his mummy."

Theodore then touched the dragon, which cooed at his touch. "And he knows his Uncle Theo."

Hermione watched as the five boys and Hagrid watched in awe as the dragon took in its new surroundings. Obviously, Hagrid wasn't aware that he lived in a wooden house. He was also oblivious to the fact that dragons grow very large—and his hut wasn't equipped for that size of growth. She was surprised that Tobias didn't bring up this issue earlier, but then again, he was a boy. Hermione sighed as it was up to her to bring up this predicament. She walked over to the table, her face frowning at the sight of the dragon. It wasn't very pretty.

"What are you going to name it?" asked Ron.

"Norbert." Hagrid said at once, still eyeing the creature as if it was a newborn baby. He then looked to Hermione. "Would you like to pet it, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head. "No thank you. Hagrid?"

"Hm?"

"How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer but something made him shut his mouth as quickly as he opened it. He ran over to the window, the six quickly following his lead. Tobias squinted his eyes and immediately saw the reason behind Hagrid's sudden movements. There was no mistaking that tan skin and those Slytherin robes.

"Zabini." Draco growled.

Tobias felt his heart drop. "And he's seen Norbert."

For the next week, the six became nervous for Hagrid, even afraid. Blaise had seen the dragon and it was no doubt he would tell a professor, but the question was: when? Zabini would throw sly grins and smirks at the six during class or in the corridors, and it made Tobias uneasy.

Hagrid didn't make it any easier, either. As much as Hermione, Tobias, and Draco tried to convince him to give Norbert away, Hagrid wouldn't listen. He was too attached to the dragon, despite the fact that he could get in serious trouble for it.

"I can't let him go." Hagrid argued. "He's just a baby."

But Norbert was nowhere near the size of a baby. He was three times longer than he was last week and smoke kept coming out of his nostrils. Hermione was afraid he was one burp away from burning the hut down and Draco was afraid the dragon would grow too big for him to hide anymore. If Zabini didn't tell Hagrid had a dragon, it surely would tell on itself.

"Hagrid." Tobias sighed. "It's only a matter of time before Norbert is going to be too big and you won't be able to hide him anymore."

"And let's not forget about Zabini." Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Who's probably on his way to tell Dumbledore right now."

"I jus' can't dump him!" Hagrid pleaded. "He'll have nowhere to go!"

Theodore shrugged. "We can always give him to Charlie."

"Who?" asked Draco, looking at Theodore with a confused look.

"That's my brother." Said Ron. "He studies dragons in Romania. He could take care of Norbert for you."

Hagrid looked between the six students, who seemed all set with sending his precious dragon off to Romania. Hagrid huffed, seeing that they all had a point—and knowing the Weasleys, Norbert would be safe. He nodded his head in agreement, and the six ran out of his hut, preparing to owl Ron's brother.

Wednesday night rolled in and Tobias, Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Theodore were sitting in the library, working on homework and studying for their exams. There were hardly any people in the library, and everyone else had pretty much gone to bed.

The doors to the library swung opened, and though everyone became startled by the action, seeing as no one walked through, the five remained calm. Tobias watched as the invisible figure walked behind the bookshelves and then revealed himself as Ron Weasley.

Ron walked over to the table and put the note down for everyone to see.

"He wants it Saturday at midnight." Ron said.

/

Saturday evening came and the six were sitting at their usual spot in the great hall. The plan to deliver Norbert to Charlie was set: Draco and Hermione would deliver the dragon to the astronomy tower and the rest would stay out to be lookouts. Everybody was involved in the plan, all except Ron.

Several days ago, the dragon bit Ron's hand and the effects were now taking its toll. His hand was twice its original size and the cut was becoming a nasty green color. Hermione urged him to go see Madam Pomfrey, but Ron was afraid she would recognize the bite and Hagrid would get in trouble. But as the swelling became worse, the red-haired Gryffindor had no choice but to go to the hospital wing. The rest promised they would visit him before they went off to deliver Norbert.

"So today's the day." Theo said sadly. Like Hagrid, Theo had taken a strange liking to the dragon and was disappointed that he had to go.

"How's Hagrid taking it?" asked Neville.

"Not well." Draco replied.

"Talking about dragons again are we?" They heard a voice sneer. They all turned around to see Blaise Zabini standing behind him, his hands in his robes. There was a nasty smirk on his face, and Tobias felt his insides burn.

"Bugger off, Zabini." Hermione said.

Zabini tutted. "Is that any way to talk to your superior, Granger?" Hermione went silent. Draco saw her quick change in expression and snapped back to Blaise.

"Leave her alone."

Zabini laughed. "Defending the mudblood again, are we Malfoy? And I thought you could sink no lower."

Draco froze. "What did you say?"

Zabini laughed again, this time even more venomous. "Oh don't tell me you didn't know, Draco? You didn't know your precious girlfriend was a mudblood?"

Tobias closed his eyes. _Not today._ He opened them to see Hermione on the brink of tears and Draco completely motionless, his fist balled.

"You're lying." He said through gritted teeth.

"Ask her Malfoy," Zabini continued to tease. "She won't deny it. Tobias knows as well."

Draco turned towards Hermione, who now had tears falling down her face. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Blaise." Theodore said calmly, polishing his fist as a reminder of what happened during the last Quidditch match.

Zabini gulped, trying his best to keep his smirk up, but as Theo suggested, he left, leaving Draco fuming with anger and Hermione with tears still running down her cheeks. Tobias knew where this was going, and as much as he hated Zabini, the boy had a knack for perfect timing.

"Draco." Tobias said carefully.

"Is it true?" He said lowly, turning towards Hermione. She stared at him for a moment, before finally nodding. Hermione didn't know why she was crying, she wasn't ashamed of who she was. But she had always been afraid they would all react like this—especially Draco. If she wasn't so caught up in how Draco was looking at her right now, she would go find and curse Zabini. But she couldn't do it, she couldn't even find the strength to move. The way Draco looked at her, as if he was disgusted with her very being—as if she was inferior to him—as these last few months of friendship meant nothing to him. His glare then went to Tobias.

"And you knew?"

Tobias put his hands in his robes pocket. "Yeah, I did."

Draco said nothing, storming out of the great hall. Hermione did the same, leaving Neville, Tobias, and Theodore at the table. Tobias turned back to the two, hoping they hadn't changed their minds about Hermione either.

"You two aren't—"

"No." Theodore said simply. "Never."

"We don't care that she's muggle-born, Tobias." Neville replied.

Tobias nodded. He didn't like the way Draco reacted, but he couldn't blame him. Tobias's grandfather never forced his hatred of muggle-borns upon him, but Tobias understood what being a muggle-born meant to pureblood wizards. Draco, however, the morals and codes against muggle-borns were his bread and butter. His father forced it upon him, guiding him to see that muggle-borns were inferior beings and were to be looked down upon by wizards—that they weren't worthy to have magical powers such as purebloods. But Hermione was an exception, she was definitely an exception. She was proof that muggle- borns weren't dumb as purebloods thought they were or unworthy or magic. She was top of their year, marks higher than any other wizard in her classes. That's why Tobias didn't turn away from her when he found out, and he thought Draco would realize the same. But he was proven wrong.

Theodore rose from the table. "I'll go look for Hermione, we still have a dragon to deliver."

Tobias nodded. "I'll go find Draco." He then turned to Neville. "Do you mind checking on Ron?"

Tobias didn't see or hear Neville's response as he rose from the table and headed towards the great hall doors. First, he needed to find Draco, and after he did that—Zabini was going to pay.

/

Draco had never felt so angry or betrayed in his life. Not only did he just find out one of his friends was muggle-born through his _enemy_ —but he found out his best friend knew as well and didn't tell him! He kicked his trunk again as he paced the room. Malfoys were never supposed to associate themselves with mudbloods. And here he was following Granger around like a dog on a leash for half the year. He felt pathetic, he felt disgraceful. He was an heir, _the_ Malfoy heir. This wouldn't do. This wouldn't stand. He couldn't be friends with, Granger. What would his father say? What would his mother think? After all their lectures about how mudbloods were the lesser race, he had become friends with one.

He stopped pacing. But it was unknowingly—he never knew Hermione was a muggle- born. And how did Zabini find out? How did Tobias find out? Did Theodore know? The way he acted so calmly, there was no doubt he knew. His father would literally kill him for it, but knowing Theodore that would've inspired him to do it. And what about Neville? Though Neville was never the type to judge, he didn't say anything either. Did Ron know? Draco yelled in frustration as he plopped back down on his bed. He honestly didn't know how to feel. He laid back on his bed, trying to sort out his thoughts. _Why did it have to be her?_

"Has anyone ever told you that you're absolutely charming?"

"Piss off, Tobias."

Tobias walked over to the bed across from Draco's and sat down. He watched his best friend stare at the ceiling, no doubt he was trying to sort out his thoughts. It was what Draco did, and Tobias knew him better than anyone else.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco asked, sitting up to face Tobias.

"Hermione wanted to tell everyone herself." Tobias replied. "What kind of friend would I be if I just told her secrets like that?"

Draco's mouth gaped open. "What kind of—what kind of friend?! Tobias, we can't be friends with her!"

"This is exactly the reason why she didn't want to tell you."

"Why are you so calm about this?!"

Tobias took a deep breath. "Because this shouldn't change how we see her, she's still the same Hermione."

"But she's a mud—"

Tobias frowned. "Watch it."

"A _muggle- born_." Draco huffed. "It's not that we can't be friends with her—we're not _allowed_ to. What if somebody found out?"

"The only people who know are me, you, Theo, Neville, soon Ron, and Zabini—and once I finish with him, he won't be a problem anymore."

Draco sighed again, putting his head in his lap. "This is complicated."

Tobias laughed. "It's only complicated because you like being friends with her."

Draco didn't respond, and Tobias knew it was because it was true. Draco did like being friends with Hermione. He liked hanging out with her and studying with her—that's why he was so surprised when he took the news so hard.

"As long as no one else finds out, we're fine." Tobias assured him. "Well, at least our parents."

Draco fumbled his fingers. "I should apologize, huh?"

"Yeah, you should."

Draco frowned. "What if she won't talk to me? Or I choke? Everything's different now Tobias, I can't just look at her and pretend I don't know."

"Then, don't." said Tobias. "But you have to try to deal with it. Hermione's our friend."

Tobias left the room, and Draco thought about what he said. He would have to try and deal with it. He didn't know how he would—he was afraid all his muggle- born prejudices would come out now that he knew. But he would try his hardest, for Hermione, because to be honest—she wasn't anything like his father said muggle- borns were. She was extremely smart and kind, she would give any pureblood girl a run for her money. And it was at that moment where Draco decided he could do it.

/

Theodore casually walked to the girl's bathroom. He knew she would be in there—that was their spot. He found himself correct as he walked through the door and found Hermione sitting on one of the bathroom sinks, her sniffles and cries echoing off the walls. He walked over and sat on the sink next to her, refusing to sit his freshly pressed trousers on the loo. He took Hermione's hand in his, hoping it would at least stop her sobs—hoping that she would know she wasn't alone.

"Why are you here?" She said through her sniffles.

Theodore smiled. "It looked like you needed a friend."

Hermione wanted to snatch her hand away from Theodore, but she couldn't do it. He had come all this way to see if she was alright—something she hadn't expected him to since Zabini made it known she was muggle- born. He called her a mudblood, the sound of it made her heart sting. She knew now that she was no longer just Hermione Granger—she was Hermione the mudblood. And the way Draco reacted hurt so bad, but what did she expect? He was a pureblood, it was frowned upon to be friends with people like her. But then here was Theodore, holding her hand in the girl's bathroom.

"If it makes you feel any better, Neville and I don't care."

Hermione sniffled again.

"And I'm positive Tobias got through to Draco about it. He was just in shock, that's all."

Hermione wiped her eyes. "It didn't seem like shock." She said bluntly. "The way he looked at me."

Theodore sighed. "Boys."

Hermione laughed a little, Theodore seemed to always make her laugh. She wiped her eyes once more, gaining a little hope from what Theodore said. She liked hanging out with Draco—she liked hanging out with all of them really. She was ultimately afraid of what would happen if they found out, but she knew she would have to tell them one day. She was glad to know Theodore and Neville didn't care, she didn't know about Ron, but surely he would be ok. It was just Draco.

"Are you sure Draco will get over it?"

"Positive." Theodore smiled at her again. "And if not, we can beat him senseless until he does."

Hermione laughed again, trying to stop the tears that were threating to form again. She gripped Theodore's hand tighter.

"You are one of a kind Hermione Granger. One of a kind."

Theodore pulled her off the sink and guided her out of the bathroom—not caring who saw them. Hermione followed him, unaware of where he was taking her.

"Theo, where are we going?"

"Certainly you didn't forget? We have a dragon to deliver."

/

Pansy walked into the Slytherin common room with one objective on her mind: find Tobias LeStrange. There was a ridiculous rumor going around that they were supposed to be delivering a dragon tonight to one those Weasley brothers. Pansy literally punched Zabini when she caught him spreading the rumor to a bunch of Ravenclaw first years. She truly despised Blaise Zabini. He was a slimy git—and she had met Draco Malfoy. She marched into the common room, making her way towards the dormitory steps, where she found her betrothed walking down the stairs. He smiled at her, and she felt her heart do a smile flip.

"Pansy." He said politely.

"Tobias." She said back. "There's a funny rumor going around about you and a dragon."

Tobias's smile dropped. He pulled her into a dark corner of the common room. "Where did you hear that from?"

Pansy snatched her arm out of his grip. "Zabini. He's been going around telling everyone."

Tobias groaned. "I am literally going to kill him. Do you know how many people he told?"

She shook her head. "No. I only caught him telling two Ravenclaws." She held up her fist. "Gave him a good reason to shut up, too."

Tobias stepped out of the corner, he began to walk out of the common room. Pansy raised an eyebrow—so there _was_ a dragon. What the bloody hell was going on? She ran to catch up with the Slytherin.

"Where are you going?"

"Hospital wing."

Pansy stopped. "For what?"

Tobias never turned his back as they entered the corridor. "Come along and you'll find out. We could use an extra person."

"And extra person?" _What the hell was going on?_

The two Slytherins entered the Hospital wing to find Draco, Neville, Theodore, and Hermione gathered around Ron's hospital bed. Apparently something happened, because Draco was red again and Hermione had that look on her face when something went wrong.

"What happened?" Tobias said as he and Pansy approached the bed.

Draco turned to see his best friend and Parkinson. "Why did you bring her?" Pansy made a face at Draco. _Slimy git._

Tobias shrugged. "Ron's out, and we needed an extra man for lookouts."

"Well, we're gonna need them." Theodore said nonchalantly. "Zabini knows about our dragon trade tonight."

"I've heard." Tobias said dryly. "How did he find out?"

"He came in the hospital wing," Ron started, "telling Madam Pomfrey he needed to get a book from me. The book he took had the note from Charlie in it."

"What are we going to do now?" Neville asked.

Tobias thought for a moment, wondering what to do. Nobody would believe Zabini, Pansy apparently didn't. Which meant they still had a chance to continue with the plan. It would be a risk, but they had to try. It would be too late to owl Charlie now. He looked at his six friends. "We're still doing the plan."

"Yessss." Theodore put his fists together.

"How are we splitting up?" Draco asked, nervous that Hermione didn't want to deliver the dragon with him anymore and wanted to switch positions. But what happened next surprised him.

"Draco and I will still deliver the dragon." Hermione said. "Tobias and Pansy can patrol together and Theodore, you'll be with Neville. Tobias, do you have your cloak?"

Tobias patted his robes pocket, which obviously looked like something was tucked in it. Hermione took the cloak and put it in her pocket, casting a spell that made it seem like her pocket was its normal size. She and Draco then left for Hagrid's, who was waiting for them to retrieve Norbert.

Pansy watched as Tobias delivered orders. She raised her eyebrow at Draco and Granger, but decided to shrug it off. She was astonished when she watched Tobias and Granger exchange the invisibility cloak, how did he get one of those?

"What are you all doing in here?!" The students turned around to find Madam Pomfrey storming into the hospital wing. Theodore tried to come up one of his infamous lies, but Madam Pomfrey shooed them out the room so fast, Theo didn't have time to open his mouth. As the four left the room, Theodore and Neville went one way, and Pansy and Tobias went the other way. She wasn't sure why they were going this way, but she was pretty sure Tobias was leading her towards the Astronomy tower.

It was half past eleven, and the corridors were empty, but that didn't stop Tobias from stopping every so often just to make sure. She could see Theodore and Longbottom across the corridor, occasionally doing the same. She almost shrieked as she felt someone rub against her. She regained her composure as Draco and Granger revealed themselves from under Tobias's invisibility cloak. In Draco's hand was a cage, and in the cage was a dragon. A real life dragon. _Zabini wasn't bluffing._ Tobias nodded at Draco and the two returned under the cloak, making their way up the stairs to the astronomy Tower. Tobias then threw a signal at Theodore, and he threw back a thumbs up. Tobias then sat down in a dark alcove of the corridor, signaling Pansy to do the same. She sat down, realizing that they would be here for a while until Draco and Hermione returned.

"So this is what it's like to be Tobias LeStrange?" She asked teasingly.

Tobias chuckled. "You have no idea."

/

He watched as the creature stood in the moonlight, its white fur shining beautifully. But its fur didn't matter, only the blood—and the Dark Lord watched hungrily as the creature only stood there. He could taste the warm, metallic liquid in his mouth—he needed more. He crept closer to the creature, careful not to make a sound. He needed the blood—the way it made him feel, the way it made his magic soar to heights he never knew he could reach in his condition. All he had to do was bite it, and it was his. All the blood was his for the taking.

He stood at the edge of the light, retrieving his wand from his pocket. He mutter a spell and the unicorn froze on the spot. He crept closer, stepping into the light of the clearing. He walked around the creature, glorifying in its figure. He licked his lips, waiting patiently for the moment where his magic was at its weakest.

He ran his fingers across the graceful creature. He felt his arms becoming heavier and heavier as he glided them over the Unicorn. He was ready. He opened his mouth, revealing his sharp teeth, and dug into its flesh. He hastily sucked the blood from the creature, eager to taste the silver blood in his mouth. He felt his magic replenish and his health improve once more. He sucked the blood more and more—his goal to drain the creature of the substance.

It didn't take him long, his need for the blood encouraged him to drink it quick. He removed his teeth from the Unicorn, and it fell on the ground. The creature was no longer lively and full. Voldemort could see the bones pushing against the Unicorn's flesh, it laid unanimated on the ground. The Dark Lord wiped the remaining blood from his mouth. He looked towards the Hogwarts Castle—he almost had the urge to walk into the castle, and take the stone himself now that his magic was at its peak, but thought better of it. He knew his magic would wear off before he could reach the stone. He frowned at the thought, walking away from the clearing and disappearing into the darkness.

/

Draco and Hermione made their way up the steps of the astronomy tower. Draco thought his heart would explode as they crept up on Professor McGonagall and Zabini in the corridor. McGonagall had given him detention while Blaise tried to explain that Tobias LeStrange was coming to deliver a dragon. Draco almost laughed—Zabini didn't actually believe the professors would buy that, did he? They pushed on forward, climbing up the steep staircase.

Hermione hadn't said anything to Draco, and he hadn't said anything to her. Hermione was disappointed they weren't talking as usual, but she kept her hopes up as everything seemed to be alright since he didn't protest delivering Norbert with her. Draco thought the same—he was taken back when Hermione herself said that they would still deliver the dragon to Charlie, despite what happened earlier. He wanted to say something, he really did. But he didn't know what to say to her. _Just say I'm sorry._ But every time he opened his mouth to speak, he found himself unable to do it. And now they were approaching the top of the tower, where Hagrid was waiting for them.

They shrugged the cloak off of them and handed Hagrid Norbert. It was eleven- fifty- eight, giving them two minutes to spare before Charlie arrived. Hagrid took that moment to talk to Norbert one more time, which Draco and Hermione watched with small smiles, still sort of creeped out by Hagrid's motherly behavior over the dragon. Draco looked at the stars for a while before realizing that Hermione was doing the same. He turned to look at her. Her hair was bushy as ever from the cloak and her skin glowed in the moonlight.

"Hermione?"

Hermione look towards Draco, her stomach doing a flop when he called her by her first name, instead of the usual Granger he normally did.

"Yes, Draco?"

Draco shuffled his feet, trying to push past his pride to say the two words. He opened his mouth to the words, but was interrupted as Charlie Weasley and his friends arrived. Draco snorted as this was definitely Ron's brother—the red hair and freckles gave it away. They arrived on broomsticks, a harness rigged between them. They let it down and Hagrid strapped Norbert in. Draco and Hermione shook hands with all four and Charlie told them to let Ron know he said "Hello." And then they were gone.

Draco had completely forgotten about apologizing to Hermione as they walked back down the spiral staircase. He felt elated—Norbert was gone, Zabini was in detention, the plan was a success. What else could possibly go wrong

"MISTER MALFOY! MISS GRANGER!"

Draco felt all his happiness fade away as they came into view of Professor McGonagall. She had Pansy, Tobias, Neville, Theodore, and Zabini beside her. Filch had walked up behind her, a satisfying smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, well, well," He said. "we _are_ in trouble."

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	12. SS12: Into the Forest

I got the right to put up a fight

But not quite, cause you cut off my light

But my sight is better tonight

And I might see you in my nightmares

~ See You in My Nightmares x Kanye West

Chapter 12: Into the Forest

The seven culprits stood in a straight line in Professor McGonagall's office. No one dare to move a muscle—Neville was trying so hard not to move you could literally see the beads of sweat falling from his face. They had been caught.

"I can't believe it. It's one o' clock in the morning! Nott, Longbottom, Parkinson, and LeStrange hiding in the alcoves of the corridors! Malfoy and Granger on the _Astronomy Tower_! Explain yourselves."

Nobody dared to speak, even Theodore couldn't come up with a lie to get them out of this one. To be honest it was all Neville's fault. Zabini and McGonagall were walking down their side of the corridor—Zabini trying to explain to the professor about the dragon, but of course, she didn't believe it. She went on and on about giving him detention and writing a note to his father when they walked passed their hiding spot. Theodore could feel Neville's breathing becoming heavier to the point where he was actually whimpering. Theodore tried to cover his mouth shut, but it was too late. Theodore suddenly felt his body being dragged out of the alcove and was now looking at the feet of Professor McGonagall. It wasn't before long when McGonagall said the spell again and soon Tobias and Pansy were also at her feet. Theodore could see the smirk on Zabini's face, but it didn't level up with the look of death upon McGonagall's. She told them to get up, and Theodore hoped she would take them somewhere far from the Astronomy Tower, but to his disappointment, that's where they were going. As they approached, he could see Draco's blonde hair and Hermione's brown hair coming into the light from the steps. _Why weren't they under the cloak?_ Theodore mentally face-palmed himself as Professor McGonagall walked faster to the steps, trying to catch the two students before they got away. Now they were here, about to face the worse punishment ever given to any Hogwarts student.

"I think I understand what's been going on." Professor McGonagall said, and everyone felt their palms sweat. Did it get hotter in here? She knew about the dragon, she knew about the note to Charlie—she was going to tell Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid would be sacked….and arrested.

"You fed Blaise this cock-and-bull story about a dragon so that I would catch him out of bed and give him detention. I am appalled at your behavior! Especially yours, Miss Granger."

This was the second time Hermione had been caught breaking the rules, and Theodore felt bad for her. The last time, she had been able to talk herself and all of them out of trouble, but this time, there was no hope. Hermione only stared at her shoes.

"All seven of you will receive detention. And fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Theodore felt his heart drop. _Fifty Points?_

"Fifty Points?!" he heard Draco say.

" _Each._ " Professor McGonagall added on.

That was two hundred and fifty points lost from Slytherin, the same amount of points they had just earned from the last Quidditch match. And they had lost them all in one night. Theodore could already see the looks of shame and anger from other students once they realized the drastic change in points. He could already picture Snape's face when McGonagall would tell him who the culprits are. He was not looking forward to that confrontation.

"Excuse me, Professor?" Zabini spoke. His snobbish tone echoing throughout the office. "I don't believe I heard you correctly. You said all _seven_ of us have detention."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at the Slytherin. "Oh you heard me correct, Mister Zabini, for you too were caught out of bed this late at night." Blaise tried to argue back but McGonagall shot him a look that quickly ended his attempt.

"You all will return to bed. You will receive a letter later on this week regarding your detentions. Goodnight."

The next day was a living hell for the four Slytherins and the two Gryffindors. Both houses thought it was a mistake—how did they lose so many points overnight? The six made it throughout breakfast without any confrontations, but that all changed came lunch.

Zabini started to spread the story about how Tobias LeStrange, the Tobias LeStrange, heir of the Dark Lord, lost them all their points. Him and a few other first years. Zabini talked his way out of the story, saying that he was trying to stop them, but had gotten caught in his attempt. Since then, Slytherins had been shooting insults and terrifying glances at the three heirs, bumping into them in the corridors and shooting hexes at them when they weren't looking. Theodore's hair had changed color three times that day, and now it was a horrible bubble gum pink color. Pansy's friends wouldn't even talk to her, and when they did, they tried to make it short so that no one would see them.

The same treatment had been given to the two Gryffindors, and even worse. Word had gotten out that Hermione was muggle- born, of course, it was Zabini's doing. Though it didn't have the effect that Zabini wanted, the Gryffindors still showed their displeasure in the fact that the three first years lost them a hundred and fifty points. Neville was more clumsy than usual and when Hermione wasn't trying to calm him down, she was on the brink of tears—keeping her head down in class and refusing to answer questions. The whole school had literally turned on them.

"They'll get over it." Ron tried to assure them. "Fred and George make Gryffindor lose points all the time, and people love them."

"But did they lose their house two hundred and fifty points in one night though?" Theodore asked bitterly, playing with the locks of his now pink hair.

Ron went red. "Well, no."

Nobody spoke to Tobias or Draco at quidditch practice. Their names had been changed to "the seeker" and "chaser number three." The two thought about resigning, but what good would that do? Slytherin would then have to forfeit the rest of their games. But with everything going on, even Quidditch wasn't fun anymore.

The six were glad that exams were approaching, it gave them a distraction from all the misery—plus it marked that the year was almost over. The six sat at their table in the library, trying to focus on their work instead of the glares and faces being made at them. Pansy soon joined the group, seeing that no one would talk to her either. They all sat in silence, all lost in their thoughts and issues when a Gryffindor first year named Dean Thomas came and threw a set of envelopes on the table. He then walked away before any of the seven could say anything to him. Hermione picked up the stack of envelopes, noticing that each one was addressed to the ones caught the night of the dragon trade. All of them said the same thing. They had detention tonight at eleven o clock and they were to meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.

The six looked among themselves—they had completely forgotten that they still had detentions to attend. It was like these few days of insults and hexes wasn't enough punishment. No one said anything as they gathered their books, not even Hermione, who hated when her study sessions were interrupted. Tobias assumed that they all believed they deserved it. They said good- bye to Ron and returned to their respective common rooms to prepare for detention. Tobias walked with Pansy while Theodore and Draco walked in front—Tobias could hear Draco cursing under his breath and Theodore making bitter comments about Zabini, Filch, and McGonagall under his. Pansy hadn't said anything to him since that night, and to be honest, he had completely forgotten that he brought Pansy into this. He had never meant to get her in trouble.

"I'm sorry you caught up in all of this, Pansy." He said.

Pansy shrugged. "It's alright." She then laughed. "To be honest, it was actually fun."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She laughed again. "How many times am I going to be able to help someone sneak a dragon through Hogwarts?"

It was then Tobias's turn to laugh. "Hopefully, that would've been the last."

Eleven o' clock came and the six met in the entrance hall. Filch was waiting for them, along with Zabini. Tobias had forgotten that Zabini had also gotten detention. _At least one good thing came out of this_.

They all followed Filch out of the castle. It was horribly dark outside, Tobias felt Neville scooch closer to him. The only light they had was the moon and Filch's lamp. Draco had no idea what their punishment would be, but it had to be something awful because Filch couldn't be happier. Draco could've sworn he saw the caretaker do a skip as they walked across the grounds.

"Is that you, Filch?" They heard a voice say. "I want ter get started."

Tobias, Draco, Neville, Theodore, and Hermione felt their hearts lift as they recognized the voice. Hagrid. They could see his hut in the distance, the windows were lighted and smoke was coming from his chimney. If their detention was with Hagrid, it wouldn't be so bad. Right?

As they approached Hagrid, their thoughts of a 'not-so-bad' detention evaporated. Hagrid appeared through the darkness, Fang at his side. He was holding a rather large crossbow and had a sack of arrows on his shoulder. Theodore had a horrible feeling in his stomach that they wouldn't be writing lines tonight.

"Righ' then." Hagrid said. "You lot ready?"

"And where exactly are we going?" Blaise asked. If Tobias didn't know any better, Zabini looked scared.

"The forest." Hagrid said simply and the seven felt their hearts stop and their stomach tie itself in knots. Filch smirked.

"Scared? Well you should've thought about that before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?" He then looked to Hagrid. "I'll be back at dawn—for what's left of them." He then turned away and headed back towards the castle. Zabini took that moment to voice his opinion.

"I'm not going in the forest." He said bluntly.

Hagrid snapped his head at him. "You will if yer want to stay at Hogwarts." But that didn't convince Blaise.

"This is servant stuff—this is for mudbloods like Granger." Hermione grabbed Draco's arm as he made an attempt to lunge at the tan Slytherin. "I am an _heir!_ If my mother knew about this—"

"—she would tell you this is what you deserved. You get in trouble and you pay for it. If yer think yer mother would rather have you come home expelled, then be my guest and leave."

Zabini glared at Hagrid, but he didn't move. He finally huffed and dropped his gaze, declaring his defeat. Hagrid nodded and turned towards the forest, waving his hand for the rest to follow them.

"What we'll be doing tonight is extremely dangerous, so I need you lot to pay attention." Hagrid said as they walked. "I don' want no one takin' risks."

They all followed Hagrid to the edge of the forest, or rather they followed his lamp, seeing as they could barely see his body through the darkness. Once they entered, Tobias felt himself tense up as the cool breeze from the forest touched his neck. He stayed on alert, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. He had heard about the creatures and monsters that lived in the forbidden forest—especially on nights like this.

They stopped as Hagrid bent down in the middle of the forest, his fingers deep in a puddle of something glittery and silver.

"Look here," he said, and the seven gathered around him. He held his fingers up, the silver substance oozing down his fingers. "This is Unicorn Blood. There's a Unicorn out here that's been hurt and we're gonna find it. The last one I found was already dead, and we may have to put this one out of its misery as well."

"What if whatever hurt it, hurts us Hagrid?" Neville said, the undeniable fear in his voice.

Hagrid softened up. "There's nuthin' in this forest that'll hut yeh if you're with me, Fang, or this." He pulled a necklace of garlic and onions. It smelled horrible, and Tobias soon realized that this must be Hagrid's idea of creature repellant. "Now were gonna split up into three parties."

"I want Fang." Zabini said promptly.

Hagrid snorted. "Very well, but I must admit he's a bloody coward. So Theodore an' Neville will take the necklace an' go one way, Draco an' Hermione will be with me and Blaise, Pansy, and Tobias will be with Fang. Get out yer wands, I have to tell yeh a few things before we go."

The seven students all got out their wands, preparing for what Hagrid was about to tell them.

"If yeh find a Unicorn, send up blue sparks. Try it." Said Hagrid. "Alright. Now if yeh get in any trouble, send up red sparks. Like so. Alright, let's go—and be careful."

With that being said the three parties went their separate ways. Tobias wasn't actually sure where they were going, but deep down he was hoping they would stumble upon that injured Unicorn soon—he didn't particularly fancy this forest. Pansy walked close beside him, her arm brushing against him ever so often. Blaise walked swiftly in front of him, Fang at his side. Tobias snorted at Zabini's fake bravery—the way he protested about even walking inside the forest. It was dead silent, all that could be heard was the students' breathing. They walked for what seemed like hours, unaware of where they were going or what part of the forest they were in. No one had sent up red sparks, and there we no signs of any blue sparks either. Tobias kept his eyes out for Zabini, making sure he wasn't planning to play any tricks while they were out here. He truly hated Zabini, even more since the evening of the dragon trade. If he had the power, Zabini would've told the whole world about Hermione being muggle- born and he couldn't have that. Hermione was his friend, and Zabini would pay for humiliating her. He grunted to himself, his thoughts lost in a plan where the tan Slytherin would get what he deserved.

"So," Pansy whispered, breaking the silence. "What do you think is attacking the Unicorns?"

Tobias shrugged. "Don't know."

"Well, Zabini seems to have found something."

Tobias looked up to notice that Blaise had stopped moving, and so did Fang. As Tobias and Pansy walked closer, they realized Zabini was standing in a pool of silvery blood—Unicorn blood. But Zabini's eyes weren't fixated on the substance below him but frozen on something ahead. Pansy grabbed Tobias's arm, and he looked up, also becoming frozen at the scene in front of him. If they weren't in trouble before, they were now. But one thing could be said—they found the Unicorn.

/

Dumbledore sat in his study, his back facing the door and his eyes traveling over the many portraits of the previous Hogwarts's headmasters that hung on the wall. He stopped on Headmaster Dippet's portrait, sighing deeply as the moving portrait slept.

"If only we would've known earlier." Dumbledore said softly.

His thoughts were interrupted as the doors to his study opened. Dumbledore didn't turn around as he was expecting this guest. There was only one person who he allowed to visit his office on late nights like this, so there was no need to be alarmed.

"You called?" said Snape. The old professor could hear his footsteps approaching his desk, but even then, he did not turn around to face him.

"Severus, can you recall how you found the Potters' dead in their home?"

"Excuse me?" The tone in Snape's voice was deadly. Did Dumbledore really ask him this question? Did he dare?

Dumbledore then turned around, and he could see the horror that overcame Snape's face. He knew what he was asking was bizarre—even heartbreaking. But he needed to know.

"I need to know how you found James and Lily Potter dead that night in Godric's Hallow." He could see Snape tensing up, his face becoming paler. He sighed. "You know I wouldn't ask—"

"—then _why are you_?" Snape snapped back.

"I have a theory," Dumbledore explained. "About Voldemort's sickness, but it can only be confirmed if you tell me how you found them."

Snape's jaw clenched. "Why not ask McGonagall or Mad-Eye, perhaps? Lupin went there as well."

Dumbledore smiled. "But none of them are allowed in my office on nights like these. I can only trust you with this theory, Severus. But I need you to tell me."

Snape stared hard at the old wizard sitting before him. How dare he ask this of him? To recall the visions that he had tried so hard to forget. The visions that appeared in his dreams every night for years after she was killed. And even now, he could still see the look on her face as she laid lifeless on the bedroom floor. He felt his throat begin to burn and his hands shake, but nonetheless, he closed his eyes, trying to recall what he had seen those eleven years ago.

"Potter was already dead when I walked inside. His body laid between the hallway and the front door. There was no one in the living room, no one in the kitchen—so I went upstairs. There was debris covering the steps, and the hall leading to the rooms, but there was a light—flickering on and off at the end of the hallway. I walked into the room, and—"

Snape gritted his teeth, trying to prevent the tears that were bound to fall on his face. He became angry with himself and with Dumbledore—he was trying to forget. But now he realized he could never forget—these images were clear inside his head, as if the incident happened the night before. He could smell the walls and the feel of her body in his arms. It was like he was entering the home once again—or like he had never left Godric's Hallow that night. He was stuck in this nightmare. He was grateful that the headmaster stayed silent as he pulled himself together.

"And she was lying on the floor, Lily," He said her name in a whisper, his voice threating to crack. "She laid dead in front of the child's crib. Harry, of course, was gone. It was as if—"

"She was protecting him?" Dumbledore asked, and Snape nodded.

Dumbledore didn't say anything but sat back in his seat. "Severus, what do you know about old magic?"

Snape furrowed his brow at the sudden change in subject. "It's very rare magic, but also known to be very powerful."

"Do you believe it can cause adverse effects on someone whose magic is different? For instance, being exposed to it for so long?"

"I suppose." Snape replied. "It would depend on how strong the magic is, and how different the person being exposed to it is."

Dumbledore nodded. "Bear with me, Severus, for here is my theory. If it is true that Lily Potter shielded Harry from Voldemort and died in the process trying to protect him, it may be possible that her deep love for Harry left its mark on him."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning," Dumbledore continued. "that Lily's love for her son could be radiating off of Tobias . And if that is true, then it may be possible that her love could be so powerful to the point where it's affecting Voldemort, who is filled with hatred and has never experienced real love."

"So her love is affecting Voldemort's _health_?"

"I know it sounds silly, Severus, but it's possible. Love is a realm of old magic, and in certain cases it can be so powerful—the one who is loved can never be touched. But as you said, the effects depend on how different the person being exposed to it is. And I think we can both agree that Lord Voldemort is the exact opposite of love."

"And you believe this?" asked Snape, still skeptical about Dumbledore's reasoning—though it did make sense.

"It is only a theory," Dumbledore said casually. "But I believe my theory will be proven by the end of the year."

"And what makes you say that?"

Dumbledore smiled at him again. "Another theory, another time."

/

Draco held up the rear as Hermione and Hagrid walked ahead of him. He knew he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for the Unicorn, but he couldn't help but think about how he would apologize to Hermione. The past few days had been so hectic, he hadn't really found the time to speak to her alone. Plus, Zabini let it be known to the whole school that Hermione was muggle- born, so now he really had to be careful.

"Hagrid?" Hermione asked. "Do you think a werewolf could have hurt the Unicorn?"

Hagrid shook his head. "They're too slow. Unicorns are one of the fastest magic creatures ever to be made—which is why they never get injured like this. Whoever done it—HIDE BEHIND THAT TREE, NOW!"

Hagrid pushed the two to the side, and Draco and Hermione stood like statues behind the tree. They watched as Hagrid pulled out his crossbow, hooking an arrow inside of it. He walked around the area, his bow pointed, ready to strike if need be. He then disappeared into the darkness, but not before mouthing to the two first years to stay still.

Draco felt his heart thumping against his chest. He was finally alone with Hermione, he could finally apologize. But here? Right now? _Better now than never_. A voice in his head said. And he took a deep breath, and spoke, causing Hermione to jump.

"I know this isn't the best of times, but I wanted to say I'm sorry. For what happened with Zabini the other day."

Hermione looked at the blonde Slytherin, trying her best to suppress the grin that was trying to force its way onto her face. It had been days since the Zabini incident, and she had assumed that Draco had forgotten about what happened—or expected her to get over it, seeing that he was still hanging around her. But here he was, in the forbidden forest of all places, apologizing to her. She was now relieved that she and Theodore would not have to beat him senseless. She smiled at him and could've sworn she saw a speck of blue flash in his gray eyes.

"About time." She said, still grinning at the Slytherin.

Draco was trying to think of something else to say when Hagrid returned, a black ripped piece of clothing in his hand. He returned his arrow to his sack, and Hermione gave a relieved sigh, seeing as he didn't have to use it.

"What's that?" asked Draco. He didn't know why, but that black piece of clothing looked strangely familiar.

"I think I know was been attacking the Unicorns." Hagrid said, holding up the clothing article. "But I can't be sure yet, come on."

The three continued walking, and the forest was silent once more. Since Hagrid's actions earlier, Draco was on high alert, keeping his head on a swivel. He would check over his shoulder every now and then, and his wand was clutched tightly in his hand. He could see that Hermione had done the same and Hagrid kept his crossbow in his hand, instead of swinging over his back as he had done before. There was definitely something lurking in the forest, but what was it?

Hagrid stopped in his tracks again, holding a finger over his mouth to prevent the two first years from saying anything. "Do you hear that?" He whispered.

Draco and Hermione slowly nodded. They could hear the leaves slowly rustling as if something was slithering across them.

"Hagrid, could the creature be a—a _snake_?" Hermione asked, this time, it was evident that she was afraid.

The slithering continued and then stopped. Hagrid reloaded his crossbow, his movements now slow and careful. "It's possible. Stay close to me—we're going to have to—"

"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream nearly scared Draco to death and the sky was now a bright red—someone was in trouble. Draco and Hermione looked at each other, hoping that none of their friends were hurt. Hagrid immediately took off towards the location of the sparks, the two first years behind him. Let it be Zabini was all that was running through Draco's mind.

/

Neither of the three Slytherins moved as they watched the creature, or maybe it was a man, suck the blood of the now dead Unicorn. _Come on, Tobias. Do something!_ But Tobias couldn't move, his body rooted to the spot. He watched as the figure sucked hungrily at the Unicorn's flesh, but soon returned to reality as he caught the glimpse of something. A black cloak.

He had seen it before, the light, black fabric. The way it fell loosely from the body it covered. Tobias had seen that cloak on one person his whole life. His grandfather.

"AGHHHHHHHHHHH!" He heard Zabini scream and realized that the cloaked figure was now walking towards him. The way the leaves rustled beneath him made it seem as if he was slithering across the grounds. Even then, Tobias could not move. Pansy pulled on his arm in a desperate attempt to make him move, but he wouldn't budge. He watched as the figure walked closer and closer—he needed to know for sure. It couldn't be him.

"Tobias we have to go!" He heard Pansy whimper. But the figure was already halfway there—it was too late to run now. He heard Pansy shout the spell, causing red sparks to shoot into the night sky.

" _Tobiasssssssss._ " The figure hissed, and Tobias felt his blood run cold. This sounded nothing like his grandfather—the cloaked man's voice was high and airy. Like a snake, if snakes knew how to talk. Tobias then turned to Zabini, who was obviously scared out of his knickers. A plan then formed in his head.

He grabbed Zabini and forced him towards the figure. Zabini tried to fight, but Tobias jammed his wand in his back.

"What are you doing?!" He heard Zabini choke out. He dug his heels in the ground, trying to prevent Tobias from pushing him closer to the figure.

"Making a trade."

Zabini tried to snatch his arm out of Tobias's hold, but it was no use. "You can't- you can't be serious?!"

"Better you than me. But I'm willing to make a deal."

"Anything!" Zabini shouted, now fighting harder than ever as the figure began to close in on them. "Please!"

Tobias smirked. "Tell everyone that Hermione being a muggle- born is a lie."

"But it isn't a lie!"

Tobias pushed Zabini closer. "Okay! Okay! Fine!" Tobias pulled him back, placing himself in front of the two Slytherins and aiming his wand at the figure. He knew he wouldn't be able to severely injure it, but he would be able to stall it long enough for Hagrid to get here. He aimed his wand at the figure, preparing to send the stupefy spell when…

/

Lord Voldemort watched as the boy stared at him—it was obvious he was frozen by what he was watching. Did Tobias know that it was him? He didn't know, Tobias had never seen him in his usual appearance. But he knew his robes would give it away. But that was hardly any of his concern, he needed to drink the blood—he needed to feel strong again. He could feel his magic recharging as he swallowed more and more of it. He sucked until he reached the very last drop of it. He removed his teeth from the Unicorn, his view returning to his grandson and the two Slytherins standing beside him.

 _Kill him. Kill the boy!_

Voldemort shook his head, but his body pressed forward. He walked slowly across the grounds towards the three students, battling with his thoughts.

 _Stop! This is Tobias, your heir!_

 _Kill him. KILL HIM!_

Voldemort tried to force his body to stop moving, but the effects from the Unicorn was taking over him. He could feel his thoughts being altered, returning to their primal state. Seeing that his body would not stop, he would need Tobias to help him. He frowned as he heard one of the students, the Zabini heir, scream and the girl known as Pansy Parkinson send red sparks into the air, no doubt alerting someone. He had to get to Tobias quickly.

" _Tobiasssssss."_ He said, but his words came out as a hiss.

He watched as his grandson then grabbed the Zabini boy and pushed him forward. _No!_ What was he doing?

"Making a trade." He heard his heir say. After that he heard nothing else, his ears were ringing as his thoughts overpowered him. _KILL HIM! KILL HIM!_ He walked closer to the two heirs, his slick fingers clutching the wand in his robes. He could faintly see Tobias raising his wand towards him, and he could feel his own arm removing his wand. Tobias was planning to stupefy him, he knew it—and that was exactly what he needed, but his grandson was interrupted.

He heard something galloping towards them, he could hear the sound of the hooves growing louder and louder. And soon a man- horse like creature appeared from behind the three students, knocking Voldemort down on the ground. The impact allowed Lord Voldemort to regain control of his body—he retreated into the forest, finding a good distance away from everyone else before disapperating back to LeStrange Manor.

/

"Are you three alright?" The man- horse creature asked. The three nodded.

"You're a centaur." Said Pansy.

The centaur nodded. "My name is Firenze." He then turned back towards the now dead Unicorn. He turned back to the three students.

"Do you three understand what has just happened?"

Tobias shook his head. "No—but—what exactly _was_ that?"

"Later," Firenze said. "Do you know what Unicorn Blood is used for?"

Zabini then spoke up. "Unicorn Blood is used to keep people alive, even if they are on the verge of dying."

Firenze nodded. "Yes, but at a terrible price. Once the blood touches your lips, you will now have a half- life, a cursed life. And though many people are aware of this fact, they still choose to drink the blood of a Unicorn, for it is addicting."

"But who'd be that desperate?" Pansy asked. Tobias felt a feeling in his gut that he already knew the answer. It didn't look like him, but Tobias had a strange feeling that it was. But why was his grandfather resorting to drinking Unicorn blood? Snape and Quirrell were supposed to be stealing him the Philosopher's Stone. Unless….they never got to the stone, maybe Dumbledore was keeping such a close watch on them that they didn't have time to steal it.

"Can you think of anyone who would need such a substance as this—to make them strong when they are weak—to heal them when they are sick?"

Zabini and Pansy turned their heads towards Tobias. He knew they were all thinking the same thing. It had been his Grandfather who was slaying the Unicorns, but only because he needed the Philosopher's stone. If Firenze hadn't told him this, he never would have known.

"So you mean," Zabini gulped, "That was _You-Know-Who?_ "

Firenze nodded. Tobias looked at the centaur. He had white- blonde hair and palomino body type. His eyes were like sapphires. It was strange that Firenze had given them this information, disregarding the fact that he was talking to three Slytherins. Tobias had so many questions to ask him—this was his grandfather's life at stake. But his thoughts were interrupted as he heard a few voices in the distance.

"Hagrid, I think I see them this way!" He heard Hermione shout.

"I really hope we didn't run all this way to find out it was really Zabini who's hurt." Theodore grumbled.

Firenze backed away slowly at the sound of the voices. "This is where I leave you all. I hope I did not scare you tonight, but the planets urged me to tell you this information. I only hope that they were right." And with that being said, he galloped away, his body being swallowed into the darkness once more.

Tobias was speechless as Hagrid, Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Theodore approached them from the other direction. Hagrid was panting, holding the arm crossbow in his hand, and each of his four friends had their wands pointed, ready to strike at the creature. Hagrid slowly put down his weapon as he realized that no one was there, only the three Slytherin first years.

"Are you lot alright?"

The three Slytherins nodded once again, their eyes still focused on the dead Unicorn before them, Firenze's words swirling through their heads. But Tobias was pretty sure the words were affecting him the most. He felt Pansy pull his arm once more, and this time he didn't object as Hagrid led them out of the forest.

/

Quirrell slowly pulled out the completed stone from the cauldron and carefully placed it on the table. He had been working all night on it, making sure everything was perfect for the delivery. He smiled to himself—he had succeeded. The fake stone looked exactly as the real one—the Dark Lord would never know the difference. He took a cloth out of his robes and gently wiped the excess liquid from the potion off the stone.

The stone was a ruby red, and shined the exact same, if not brighter, than the original Philosopher's Stone. Tomorrow, he would sneak through the trapdoor, and take the original stone. He would return it back to Dumbledore, and then deliver the fake stone to Voldemort. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He was about to deceive one of the greatest wizards of all time, and Lord Voldemort would never know he had been tricked.

But Quirrell couldn't help but worry a bit. What if the boy didn't come? He had tried to drop hints here and there about the Philosopher's stone to Tobias, but he wasn't sure if the boy was catching them. For Salazar's sake, he had given him a bloody project on the matter! He needed Tobias in the chamber with him—he needed him alone. To reveal to Tobias his true heritage—though Dumbledore said to wait, he couldn't help but feel the old professor was taking all of this for granted. Of course the boy would not believe him, but Quirrell at least had to try.

He looked at the stone once more, everything depended on him it seemed. Tobias's trust in Snape, Voldemort's health, the Order's future plans. He needed all of this to succeed—he needed to know he left the world with a few good deeds on his plate. This was his chance, to forgive himself for that horrible night those years ago. He looked into the stone, and could've sworn he saw a flash of green inside of it and a faint scream from a woman. He swallowed, putting the fake stone into his robes pocket and leaving his study.

/

Tobias didn't know how he got to his room later that night. He didn't remember walking out the forbidden forest. He didn't remember saying goodbye to Hagrid and walking with the other first years to the entrance of the castle. He didn't remember walking to the Slytherin dungeons or climbing up the steps to his room. But here he was, standing in front of his four poster bed. Theodore and Draco had immediately climbed into bed, each one quickly falling asleep. It was now morning, and Tobias found himself unable to rest.

His grandfather was now cursed, with a half- life. He was addicted to Unicorn blood, and it was only because Snape and Quirrell were unable to get the Philosopher's stone for him. Tobias felt sick to his stomach—he needed to lay down and at least try to sleep. He could then sort out his thoughts in the morning. He pulled back the sheets to his bed when he raised an eyebrow at something hiding under the sheets. It was his invisibility cloak.

He remembered that Draco and Hermione had left it on top of the Astronomy tower. He was positive that Professor McGonagall had taken it and put it away. But now it was here, on top of his bed—folded neatly with a note attached to the top.

Tobias removed the note and read it. _Just in case_. And at that moment, Tobias knew exactly what he wanted to do.

 **Author's Note: We're almost done! This chapter was written to answer a few questions—the main one being the answer to Voldemort's sickness. Thank you for all the follows and reviews. I am pleased to see that many people are indeed enjoying the story. There's more to come!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	13. SS13: Man's Best Secret

I wanna leave my footprint on the sands of time

Know there was something that, meant something that I left behind

When I leave this world, I'll leave no regrets

Leave something to remember, so they won't forget

~ I Was Here x Beyonce

Chapter 13: Man's Best Secret

Tobias went straight to the Potion master's office right after his exams. He didn't have time to explain to Draco and the rest where he was going, but they would find out soon. Right now, he needed to get to Snape's office.

He walked down to the dungeons, passed the potion's class room, and to the black door at the end of the corridor which he knew to be Snape's office. He put his ear to the door, trying to listen out for any signs of Snape, but he heard nothing. Assuming the professor must've put a silencing charm on his office, Tobias knocked.

"Come in." He heard a voice say.

Tobias opened the door, and walked quickly to Snape's desk, where he was grading a set of exams. Snape looked up at the dark- haired Slytherin and the returned to his grading.

"Mister LeStrange." He said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I know, Professor."

Snape looked up at the boy again, his eyebrow raised. "Know what, exactly?"

Tobias took a deep breath, hoping that he wouldn't get in trouble about revealing this type of information. "I know about the Philosopher's Stone and that you and Quirrell plan to take it. I want to help."

"I beg your pardon?" Snape kept his voice leveled. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"Excuse my tone, Professor, but yes you do." Tobias kept his eyes focused on the man in front of him. Why was he lying? Why wouldn't Snape let him help?

Snape stared hard at the boy. Of course he knew about the stone. He laid down his quill, never removing his gaze from the Slytherin first year.

"How did you find out about the stone?"

Tobias was silent for a moment. "It's complicated."

Snape sighed, of course it was. Everything dealing with the Potters' was _complicated._ "The stone is in the castle, but you are not to go looking for it."

"But Professor—"

"Professor Quirrell and I will retrieve the stone when we can." Snape continued, his voice stern.

"But my grandfather," Tobias tried to argue. "The Unicorn Blood—"

"Will keep him alive for the time being, Mister LeStrange." Snape interrupted him again. "But until then, you are not to go looking for the stone. And if I catch you anywhere near the third-floor corridor, you will face a punishment worse than your little detention in the forbidden forest. Is that understood?"

Tobias was outraged. Why wouldn't Snape let him help? This was his grandfather. He would've gone to Professor Quirrell, but the Dark Arts Professor was nowhere to be found. He had hopes that Snape would at least let him participate or at least distract the other teachers for him, but Snape had simply told him no. To not go after the stone. What was he playing at?

"Yes, sir." Tobias said defeated. And he turned to leave the room.

Snape watched as he left. He returned to his grading, but couldn't fully concentrate on the exams in front of him. This wasn't just any child he was speaking to, this was James Potter's son. The leader of the marauders. There was no doubt in his mind that Tobias would go against his warning and pursue the stone anyway. Snape sighed, hoping that he was wrong.

* * *

"You want to do WHAT?!"

If Tobias had a knut for every time Ron's face turned red, he'd be rich—well richer than he was now anyway. They were all sitting at the usual spot in the library. Exams had been over hours ago and now everyone was enjoying the last few days of school. The sun was out and it was horribly hot outside, but that didn't stop students from going outside and enjoying their freedom from transfiguration and charms. Hermione had been going on and on about each of the exams, and Tobias thought he wouldn't hear the end of it. And what made it even worse, Theodore kept egging her on, and for some reason, Draco was adding on the conversation. Leave it to Hermione to keep your head in the books even when school was over. But that conversation quickly changed as Tobias remembered what he actually brought his friends to the library for.

He wanted to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.

Seeing his grandfather that night at detention made it perfectly clear what he needed to do. And after his conversation with Professor Snape, he knew he would have to do it in secret. He knew where the stone was and he knew that the teachers had set up defenses around it. He also knew if he succeeded, no one would suspect a first year to have done it. The plan was merely perfect, except for one tiny detail. Or a rather big one.

"Let me get this straight." Ron went on. "You want to sneak out tonight, go to the third-floor corridor, and _take_ the Philosopher's Stone? After Snape already told you not to go after it? _Are you mad?!_ "

"Ron." Tobias tried to stop him.

"We don't even know how we're going to get in there! There's no doubt that McGonagall would have someone watching the corridors now ever since the dragon incident."

"Ron."

"And even if we did get past her or any of the other professors, there's still one big problem. The beastly three-headed dog! How are we going to get passed _that_?!"

"I have a plan." Tobias finally got out.

Ron scoffed. "Oh, so you have a spell that can knock him out?"

Tobias was silent for a moment. "No."

"Some sort of enchanted collar or a magical dog treat?"

Tobias felt everyone's eyes on him. "No."

"Then, what is your plan?!" Ron said irritably.

Tobias smirked. "Hagrid."

Ron's mouth gaped open, and everyone—even Theodore—looked at Tobias as if he was nuts. How was Hagrid going to help them get passed Fluffy? He couldn't know about the plan, he would tell the professors—tell Dumbledore.

"You have gone mad, haven't you?" said Theodore.

"Tobias, Hagrid would never help us take the stone, he's one of the people _guarding_ it!" Hermione exclaimed. Tobias's smirk grew bigger—even Hermione wasn't seeing what his play was. It was ingeniously perfect.

"Why do you keep smirking at us?" Draco demanded, balling his fists as if he was about to punch Tobias at any moment.

Tobias smiled. "We don't actually need Hagrid to get passed Fluffy," he said simply. "we just need him to tell us."

Ron threw his hands in the air. "And how are we going to do that?!"

Neville nodded in agreement. "Even I know we can't just walk into Hagrid's hut and ask him how to get passed his dog. He might suspect us."

"Which is why we aren't going to _ask_ him." Tobias said smoothly.

"Then—"Ron tried to say.

"All the information we've gotten from Hagrid, we tricked him into telling us." Tobias then looked towards Draco, who was finally catching on to his plan. "I think it's time for one more detention."

Hermione shook her head. "Tricking Hagrid into telling us is _wrong_! There has to be another way."

"There isn't." Draco said. "Plus, it's Hagrid's dog—he's the only one who would know how to tame him."

"And we don't have that much time either." Tobias added on.

"Okay," Ron said. He was rubbing his fingers against his temple, trying to sort everything out. "say we do find out how to get passed Fluffy. There's still another problem."

"Dumbledore." Theodore sat back in his seat.

Hermione nodded. "With Dumbledore here, it'll be impossible to get the stone. He'll know what we're after as soon as we open the trapdoor."

"Speaking of Dumbledore," Draco said raising an eyebrow. "Has anybody actually seen him today?"

The six look amongst each other, hoping that someone would have an answer to Draco's question. But it seems as if neither of them had seen the old professor. To be honest, Tobias hadn't seen Dumbledore since the night they talked by the Mirror of Erised. He was finally realizing that they had all assumed Dumbledore was in the castle. Tobias turned his head to look outside. It had to be at least three o' clock. There was so much to do, yet Tobias didn't know how he would get all those things done in time.

"We're going to have to split up." He finally said. "Draco, Hermione, and I will go to Hagrid's and Theodore, Ron, and Neville will go find out where Dumbledore is. We'll meet back up here when everyone's at dinner. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Tobias, Hermione, and Draco then set off for Hagrid's hut. They walked quickly and swiftly through the groups of students—never stopping to speak to anyone. They walked passed the greenhouses and down the hill to the hut, and Tobias was glad to see smoke coming from the chimney. That meant Hagrid was home.

Just as it happened when they first met, Tobias barely had time to knock on the door before Hagrid opened, a big smile on his face.

"Well, Hullo, der." He said smiling but soon frowned as he noticed only three members of the usual set of students were at his door. "Where's the others?"

"Neville's in the hospital wing again." Tobias lied, and Draco and Hermione nodded in agreement, hoping that Hagrid wouldn't catch them in their lie.

Hagrid grunted. "Poor chap- can't seem to stay outta that place. You three fancy a drink?"

Tobias smiled. "Yes, Hagrid that would be lovely."

Hagrid led the three inside and they all sat at the table. Hagrid each handed them a metal cup before pouring some tea inside. Tobias and Hermione took a sip of theirs, and Tobias had to try his best not to spit the liquid out. Hermione held hers in her mouth for a minute before swallowing, and Draco literally spit his out, spraying tea everywhere. The tea was disgusting.

"Too hot for yeh, eh Draco?" Hagrid laughed.

Draco grimaced, setting his cup back on the table. "Yeah, that's it."

Hagrid took a sip of his tea. The three first years watched him take in the tea, awaiting his reaction, but it didn't come. Hagrid swallowed the tea as if it was water, letting out a relaxed "ahh" as he set his cup back down. He then looked back to the three first years.

"So, what brings you three down here? Come to talk about yer exams? I know Snape's was a bludger."

Tobias leaned forward, his hands clamped together on the table. "Actually, Hagrid, we came to see you to talk about….Fang."

Hagrid raised an eyebrow. "What about Fang?"

"Well, you see," Tobias began. "Draco's father got him a dog for his birthday, but he has absolutely no idea how to take care of it."

Draco snapped his head towards Tobias, glaring at him for making such a story, but Tobias shot him back a look that he knew as "play along."

"Why not ask Hermione?" Hagrid asked. "I'm sure she would've found you a book o' two on how to take care of 'em."

Tobias and Draco looked to Hermione, hoping that she would catch on to their plan. Hermione didn't return their looks but only looked towards Hagrid.

"The thing is, Hagrid," She said sweetly, not a hint of a lie in her voice. "We felt like you could teach us more about how to care for Draco's dog, seeing as you have one of your own."

Hagrid was silent for a moment. He then laughed. "Well that is true, I've been taking care of Fang here ever since he was a mere pup." He then looked at Draco. "So what kind of dog didja get, Draco?"

Draco's eyes went bigger, he wasn't expecting Hagrid to ask him that. "Well—uhhhhh— well it's really big and black."

"Big and black, eh?" Hagrid said curiously. Tobias held his breath. Hopefully, there was such a thing as a big and black dog, otherwise Hagrid would know they were lying.

"Ah, you must've got a Rottweiler." Hagrid finally said, and Tobias finally let go of the breath he had been holding.

"Yes, that's it." Draco said, relieved. "A rottweiler."

"Huh, never thought Lucius was into muggle dogs, but that's a dangerous creature, that is. No wonder you came to me. No book could tell ya how ter tame that breed."

"How did you tame Fang?" Tobias asked curiously.

Hagrid laughed again. "Well, that's simple," He pulled out a green piece of meat out of his pocket. "This here is dragon meat, Fang loves it. Give him this and he'll do whatever you want."

Hermione made a face at the green meat. Tobias had to agree that it did look off- putting and started to wonder why people ate such a thing.

"But of course that doesn't work for all dogs," Hagrid continued, now lost in the conversation. "Take Fluffy, for example. He loves music. Just play some, nothing too loud—just something to calm him, and he'll fall right asleep, he will."

"Music?" Draco asked, looking at Tobias. Tobias then looked Hermione, whose eyes had grown wider at Hagrid's confession. Music—that was how they were going to get passed Fluffy.

"That's what I said." Hagrid said proudly. But he then frowned as he saw the astonished faces on each of the first years. "What's wrong?"

Tobias looked to the other two. They needed to leave—now. "Uhhh, I just realized, Hagrid. We were supposed to be checking up on Neville right about now."

Draco nodded quickly. "Yeah, we promised that we would go see him before dinner."

"Right." Hermione added. "Madam Pomfrey won't let us in after hours."

Hagrid looked at the three students, and Tobias felt his heart thumping through his chest. Hagrid then sighed.

"Well, I guess you three best be going then." He stood up to open the door. And the three students ran out of the hut. "Be sure to tell Neville I said get well soon!" Hagrid yelled after them.

"Will do!" Draco screamed as they sprinted towards the castle.

* * *

Theodore, Ron, and Neville walked down the corridor—keeping an ear out for any news relating to Dumbledore. Or, as Theodore was, keeping an ear out for the password to get into Dumbledore's office. They had stood outside the Headmaster's office for the past thirty minutes, Theodore and Ron blurting out random words in hopes that the gargoyle statue would open up and show them the stairs.

"How did you even know that this is his office?" Ron asked.

"I saw Professor McGonagall come up here one time." Theodore shrugged. "Plus, if you were headmaster, wouldn't you want the entrance to your office to be behind a gargoyle statue?"

They weren't having any luck trying to find the whereabouts of Dumbledore. Everyone Ron asked didn't know- nobody had really seen Professor Dumbledore since the Halloween feast. Even Fred and George didn't know where he was, and they were in trouble every other week. Nobody would talk to Theodore, seeing as that he was still part of the reason the Slytherin house lost two hundred and fifty points and after seeing Theodore's attempts, Neville didn't even try to ask anyone.

"This is hopeless." Ron grunted. "Nobody knows where Dumbledore is and we don't know the password to his office."

"Any why would you three need the password to Professor Dumbledore's office?" They heard a voice sneer.

Ron's face went red, Neville's went pink, and Theodore mentally face- palmed himself again. Out of all the people who could've overheard their conversation. The three boys turned around to find Professor Snape standing before him, his eyes boring into their very skin.

"We, uhhh—" Ron started.

"A better question." Snape interrupted him. "What are three first-year boys like yourselves doing _inside_ the castle on a day like this?"

"We were headed outside, professor." Theodore said promptly.

Snape then gave them a twisted smile, which made Neville's stomach flip and Ron's hands begin to sweat.

"Is that so?" Snape said, never removing his gaze from the three students. "I don't remember there being any exits on this side of the castle."

Neville gulped, and this time Theodore actually had the urge to hit himself. There weren't any exits on this side of the castle. Theodore should've known better than to use that lie. Especially against Snape.

"So what is the real reason you three are wandering in this part of the castle?"

"We were looking for Professor Dumbledore." Neville sheepishly, hiding behind Theo.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It's sort of a secret." Neville went on, trying to find his voice. "My gran asked me to speak to him."

"About?" The potion's master pushed on.

Neville shook his head, his voice growing higher. "I—I—I can't tell you. My gran only wants me to tell Dumbledore."

Snape looked at Neville, and Theodore could've sworn he felt Neville's body shrink down to his height. He could feel his heart beating against his chest—he would've never thought of Neville being able to make a perfect lie, but this was Snape, who no doubt would know when they were lying. His lie even failed against him.

"As urgent as your message seems, Mister Longbottom," Snape said coolly. "Professor Dumbledore isn't here. He left about ten minutes ago for a conference at the Ministry of Magic."

The three boys looked at each other. Dumbledore was _gone._ The stone was vulnerable. Theodore didn't feel the smile creeping across his face.

"Is there something we should be smiling about, Mister Nott?"

Theodore quickly wiped the smile from his face. "Uh no, sir."

Snape stared intently at him, but his face soon softened. "You ought to be more careful, Mister Nott. People might think you're _up to something_."

"Right." Theodore said quickly and soon led Ron and Neville away from Snape. They walked fast but steadied their pace to where Snape wouldn't become suspicious. Once they turned a corner, Theodore pulled the two Gryffindors into an alcove.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked. "It's obvious Snape knows were up to something."

"He doesn't know what, though." Said Theodore. "But we still need someone to look out for him. You remember what he told Tobias."

The Slytherin and the red- headed Gryffindor then looked to Neville, who hadn't said anything since they first arrived in the alcove. Neville once again turned pink, becoming uncomfortable by the way Theodore was staring at him.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" He asked nervously.

Theodore smirked, clapping the black- haired Gryffindor on the shoulder. "Because you, my dear Longbottom, are going to keep an eye out on Snape for us."

"But—But—why _me_?" Neville sputtered. He barely made it through the first confrontation with the Potion's master. He couldn't bare another one—yet explain to him why he was watching him in the first place if he was caught.

"Because...well I don't really know why I chose you." Theodore shrugged. "But you can just wait outside the staffroom, say you're waiting for Professor Sprout so you can ask her about that plant that helps you not drown."

"You mean gilly weed?"

"Yeah, that. And when Snape's gone, meet us in the library."

Neville nodded, but the other two could tell he was terribly afraid. Neville had never done anything like this by himself before. Ron gripped his shoulder. "We're counting on you, Neville." And with that being said, Neville gathered all the confidence he could muster and nodded, leaving the alcove and heading towards the staffroom.

Ron and Theodore then left for the library. It had to be at least six o clock now, and all the students were walking to the great hall for dinner. The two boys walked through the crowd, trying not to draw attention to themselves as the slid through groups of upperclassmen.

"I wonder if they found out how to get passed Fluffy?" Ron asked. "What if we have to feed him a student?"

Theodore snorted. "I doubt that. Knowing Hagrid it'll be something ridiculous like music or tap dancing"

"Dogs like tap dancing?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

"I suppose you two like to be caught in places you shouldn't be!" Professor McGonagall snapped, grabbing the two Slytherins by the ear. "If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take all the points that Slytherin has earned this year. Yes, Mister Malfoy, _all of them_."

She dragged them away from the third-floor corridor, and led them down the magical staircase, to where she coincidently ran into Hermione, who was standing outside of the Gryffindor portrait.

"Miss Granger," She said promptly. "I am greatly relieved that I did not catch you hanging about this time, but I urge you to convince your classmates to do the same." She removed her grip from the two boys' ears and turned on her heel, walking away. Hermione was silent as she watched the professor walk away before addressing the two Slytherins.

"So?" she asked.

"It's clear." Draco answered.

Tobias nodded. "Nobody's watching it. Not even Filch."

"Odd isn't it?" Hermione asked. "How none of the teachers are even bothering to keep an eye on the stone?"

Draco shrugged. "Well, they aren't expecting a group of first years to sneak in steal it, now are they?"

Hermione nodded, and the three made their way to the library where they were supposed to meet up with Theodore, Ron, and Neville. But when they reached their table, they noticed that only two of the three was waiting for them.

"Where's Longbottom?" Draco asked, looking towards the empty seat where Neville usually sat.

"He's watching out for Snape." Theodore said casually, playing with a piece of string he pulled from the hem of his robes.

" _Snape?!_ " Tobias exclaimed. "You left him to watch out for Snape?!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist." Said Ron. "You should've seen the way he lied to him. It was genius. We thought we were done for."

Hermione seemed astonished. "Neville lied to Snape?"

"And Snape believed him?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Of course not," Theodore said quickly. "But the point is, we're here and not rotting in a dungeon somewhere. So all hail, Longbottom."

Tobias looked between Ron and Theodore, finally shaking his head. "Nevermind that. We've found how to get passed Fluffy. It's music."

Theodore dropped his string as Ron began to laugh uncontrollably. Theodore cursed himself for having jinxed the surprise. He was looking forward to feeding Zabini to the three- headed dog.

"What's funny?" Draco snapped.

"Nothing, nothing." Ron said between his fits of laughter. "But we found out about Dumbledore, too. He's gone. Snape said something about a meeting with the Ministry or something like that."

"Perfect." Tobias said with a smirk. "We'll meet in the third- floor corridor at midnight. Hermione and Ron, make sure to tell Neville we're—"

Tobias was interrupted as Neville burst through the library doors, causing Madam Pince to hiss loudly at him. He ran to the table, flopping down in his usual seat.

"Dear Merlin, what happened to you?" Theodore said as Neville sat there breathing heavily. His hair was everywhere and his robes looked even more disheveled than they did before.

"Snape…came….he caught me." Neville said, trying to catch his breath. "So I ran. I don't know where he went." He looked at his five friends, still gasping for air. "Did you guys figure out how to get passed Fluffy?"

"Music." Tobias said promptly. "And we're meeting in the third-floor corridor at midnight. Don't say anything to anyone—no notes." He looked at Ron when he said this. "And no public conversations. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

* * *

Quirrell sat at his study, reviewing his notes regarding the counter-spells to the enchantments guarding the stone. Tonight was the night. And it had to be perfect. One wrong move and the fate of the world may fall into Lord Voldemort's hands once again. Tobias would be taken from Hogwarts and never be seen again until he rose as the heir of the Dark Lord. He read each word closely, reviewed each diagram twice, and practiced each spell three times. Everything had to be perfect, there would be no do-overs.

There was a faint knock at the door, and Quirrell flicked his wand to open it. He didn't look up, but by the swiftness of the footsteps, he knew it was Snape.

"Come to wish me luck, Severus?" He teased.

"The boys knows." Snape dismissed his question. "It's not too late to change your mind, Quirrell."

Quirrell put down his quill and looked at his fellow colleague. "We both know it is, Snape." He gave him a weak smile. "I've made my decision, whether you like it or not."

"You're sacrificing yourself—"

"To save the world, yes I am." Quirrell retorted back. "Isn't that what we all are doing? Isn't that what _you're_ doing?" He then turned back to his notes. "Everyone's sacrifice won't be the same. If anyone should understand that, it should be you."

Snape did understand. He had sacrificed his life years ago when he became a double agent for Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. Even his own soul did not belong to him anymore. Nothing he did anymore was for himself—it was for them—for _her_. He watched as Quirrell studied the notes intently, and for a moment he could see that young sixteen-year-old boy sitting in front of him. Years ago, he would have never given his life for anyone else to live, but now he wished he had. Now he wished he would have tried harder to protect her, sacrificed more. He should've have been the one laying lifeless on that bedroom floor, not her. He loathed himself for not doing so, and he loathed himself even more that he couldn't bring himself to see what Quirrell saw in him to be—believed in him to be.

He walked towards Quirrell's desk. "Your mother would be proud." He said softly, trying not to make him uncomfortable. But Quirrell still tensed up, dropping his quill on his desk.

"My mother would be a lot of things right now." He said grimly, staring at the paper below him. "But proud would not be one of them."

Snape sighed. "You were scared, under pressure, you had no choice."

Quirrell laughed darkly. "Of course I had a choice, Severus." He looked up at the man in front of him. His eyes were stone cold, his expression hardened. "It was my life or hers. And you see what I chose."

"Out of fear."

"Out of _selfishness._ " Quirrell spat. "I chose me, over my mother. For what? For this?" He snatched back his sleeve, revealing his dark mark.

"I don't have the opportunity to choose anymore, but you do Severus. It's either your life or his. And since you're too stubborn to choose, I have chosen for you." He sighed. "You know you would never forgive yourself if you didn't choose him. So let me do this—give me the opportunity to show you that you are more than what Voldemort made you into."

Snape was silent. Was he really choosing Tobias's life over his? But if he knew Lily Potter, and he did, he knew that she cherished this boy's life more than her own. More than his, more than James's. But she was gone now, and he owed it to her. It was now his duty to protect her son, he now had to make the choice he failed to make those eleven years ago. So he chose him. He chose Harry Potter over himself. He noticed that Quirrell had once again returned to his notes. He turned around to leave his study, walking as swiftly as he did when he entered. When he reached the door, he turned back around and noticed that Quirrell had been watching him leave. They stared at each other for a moment—his black eyes focusing on his blue ones.

"Goodbye, old friend." He said.

Quirrell smiled. "Till we meet, again."

* * *

Tobias, Theodore, and Draco had been sitting in the Slytherin common room for what seemed like hours, waiting for everyone to go upstairs to their dormitories. It was eleven- thirty and there were still a few seventh years hanging around. Tobias had his invisibility cloak tucked under his robes—when everyone left, the three Slytherins would slip under the cloak and make their way to the third-floor corridor to meet Hermione, Ron, and Neville. They sat in silence, nobody bothered them—nobody had spoken to them since they had lost all the points. And given the current situation, Tobias found that fact completely fine.

Slowly, the remaining Slytherins made their way to their dormitories, stretching and yawning as they said goodbye to their friends. Theodore followed them up the stairs just to make sure everyone was going to bed. He quickly returned, giving Draco and Tobias a thumbs up. Tobias pulled the cloak out of his robes and unfolded it.

"Draco you're going to have to duck down, seeing that you're the tallest. If Filch even sees one of our shoes, we're done for." Tobias whispered.

Draco and Theodore nodded, preparing to have the invisibility cloaked thrown over them when they heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Tobias quickly hid his cloak and Draco turned towards Theodore.

"I thought you said everyone was gone to bed?" He whispered angrily.

Theodore didn't have time to retort as the person revealed themselves. Draco turned around to notice the first year Slytherin girl standing before them.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Draco snapped.

Pansy rolled her eyes and turned towards Tobias. She was wearing a long, green nightgown with black furry slippers and her hair was braided into a neat ponytail. "Where are you guys going?"

"What makes you think we're going somewhere?" Tobias asked. He looked at the clock—eleven- fifty.

"You all still have on your robes." Pansy said it as if it was the obvious answer. The three said nothing, as they did still have on their robes and it was close to midnight. Her eyes grew bigger as she realized what was going on.

"You're planning to sneak out again."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Parkinson." Draco barked back. Once again, Pansy ignored him.

"It has something to do with the unicorn blood, doesn't it?" Pansy asked. "Doesn't it?"

"Tobias, we don't have time for this." Theodore said out of the corner of his mouth.

"No, it doesn't, Pansy. And if you don't mind, I would like to talk to Draco and Theodore in peace." Tobias said dismissively, trying to get the dark- haired girl to leave.

"No." She said. "You guys are sneaking out again, and I won't let you. We've already lost enough points, Tobias." She pulled out her wand, aiming it at the three boys. "I won't let you risk us losing more."

" _Do something._ " Said Theodore.

Tobias sighed. "I'm really sorry about this, Pansy. _Petrificus Totalus!"_ Pansy then froze. Theodore walked over, in awe that Tobias knew wandless magic. He touched Pansy's now petrified body, and inconveniently, her body fell to the ground with a loud thump.

"Theo!" Tobias whispered.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Theodore whispered back, carefully stepping over Pansy's body. Tobias then covered the three with his invisibility cloak and they left the Slytherin common room.

"So wandless magic, eh?" Theodore whispered.

"Now's not the time, Theo." Tobias said.

"Right, perspective."

* * *

Hermione had been pacing the third-floor corridor for the past ten minutes. It was ten past midnight and Draco, Theodore, and Tobias weren't here. Neville and Ron tried to convince her to sit down, but she refused. She was too worried about what might've happened to the three Slytherins.

"They've gotten themselves caught. I just know it!" she whispered furiously.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Hermione. We're talking about Draco, Theodore, and Tobias—there's no way they've gotten caught. They have the invisibility cloak."

But that didn't convince her, and she continued to pace the room. She tried to think of the possibilities that the three boys would've gotten caught. They probably ran into Peeves, who probably told Filch, and now they were in McGonagall's office again, facing the worst punishment of their life. Or maybe Snape caught them and they were being expelled at this very moment. Should they leave? But then who would retrieve the stone for Tobias's grandfather? Hermione huffed again as she turned to walk to the other side of the room. She stopped in front of Ron and Neville.

"I think we should still go inside." She said. "Even if they don't show up."

Ron went pale. "Are you _mad_?

"Somebody has to get the stone." Hermione snapped back. "Why can't it be us?"

"Maybe because Weasley might piss his pants at the sight of the dog and Neville may just actually fall through the floor."

Hermione whipped around to see Draco, Theodore, and Tobias standing beside her. Tobias was folding his invisibility cloak up and returning it to his robes pocket. Hermione unconsciously waved her wand causing his pocket to return to its normal size. Draco was smirking at her and Theodore had already begun walking around the room.

"Any problems?" Ron said, dusting himself off as he stood up.

Tobias shook his head. "We ran into peeves, but Theodore got rid of him. He does an unusually good impression of the Bloody Baron."

"We thought you had gotten caught." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"Really, Granger?" Draco teased. "You should know us better than to believe that would happen."

"You all got caught during the dragon trade." She huffed at him.

"Only because Neville can't seem to keep his breathing quiet." Draco retorted back.

Everyone turned their head as they heard a door creak open. They all turned to see that Theodore had opened the door leading to their first task of the night. Theodore looked at them as if he had done nothing wrong, opening the door wider.

"Well, are you guys coming or not?"

The six crept through the door, each one trying their best to not make a sound. As they crossed over into the room, the sounds of low grumbling and snores met their ears. It was Fluffy, and he was asleep.

"Did any of you guys play music?" Tobias asked. Everyone shook their head slowly, their eyes focused on the huge beast in front of them.

"Look." Hermione said, pointing to something on the ground. "There's something by its feet."

Draco tip- toed over to the small instrument placed by Fluffy's feet. "It looks like a harp."

"And I brought this stupid flute for nothing." Theodore huffed.

Tobias felt his blood run cold. Someone was here. Someone had enchanted the harp to continuously play music while they snuck through the trapdoor. But who could it be? Snape? Quirrell? Or someone else. If they were caught, the six friends could face expulsion. Tobias couldn't do that to them, not for his own selfish wants. He turned to his five friends.

"Someone's here." He said.

"Great observation." Draco said sarcastically.

Tobias ignored him. "I don't know who it is. It could be Snape or Quirrell—but if so, you all know if we get caught—"

"We know, Tobias." Hermione said.

"And we don't care." Said Ron.

"We're in this together." Neville said with a smile.

Draco clapped his shoulder. "Didn't think you were getting rid of us that easily, did you?"

Theodore smirked. "He couldn't get rid of us if he tried."

Tobias looked amongst his five friends. They were willing to risk it all for him. This is what he had come to Hogwarts in hopes of. The chance to make new friends, and he did. He met a red- head who had the temper of a lion. He met a muggle- born who had hopes to be the brightest witch of their age. He met a clumsy Gryffindor who was braver than any person he had ever met. He met a brown haired Slytherin who was one of the greatest people you would ever meet. And he had Draco, his best friend and cousin, who showed loyalty like no other. These were his friends. He wouldn't have chosen a stranger set of friends.

Tobias then nodded. "Well let's not waste any time. We have a stone to take."

Theodore and Ron then moved Fluffy's paws away from the trapdoor, and Theodore opened it, allowing the six the easily slide through the trapdoor, unaware of the obstacle waiting below them.

* * *

" _Inmobulus."_

All the flying keys froze on the spot. Quirrell hopped on the broom and flew through the hundreds of keys before grabbing the one that belonged to the door below him. He landed quickly, putting the key in the lock and opening the door. His moves were smooth and precise. Everything had to be perfect. He mumbled a quick repair spell, and repaired the key for the next user—which he hoped wasn't too far behind him.

He thought of his mother. Of how she pleaded for him not to kill her—but yet no sound came out of her mouth. She spoke through her eyes, and it was if she recognized her son through that horrible mask. She knew she had reached her doom, but she never thought he would be the one to deliver the blow. He shook his head, trying to fight the thoughts out of his head. Tonight, he would redeem himself. Tonight, he would try his best to prevent what happened to him, from happening to Tobias. The world needed someone to see it as what it was, and not just as Death Eaters and Order members. Someone who would understand the reality of what it all meant, before it was too late. And many years ago, Quirrell believed that person was him, but as he stood there, he realized he could never be that person. He felt his dark mark sting under his clothing—he had made his choice. But if he succeeded tonight, none of that would matter.

Tonight, he would be free.

"Finite incantartem." He said and the keys began to fly rapidly around the small room again. He left the broom lying on the floor and went through the next door.

 **Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews. We are almost there. The last portion of the book will be split up into a few more chapters because I don't want to rush the plot. So continue to follow, fav, and review!**

 **We have reached Quirrell's end. I really enjoyed re-writing his character. And I hope you all have enjoyed reading his new character as I have writing it. The song at the beginning of the chapter was dedicated to Quirrell and his battle to be remembered as a symbol of goodness than what he represented when he became a Death Eater.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	14. SS14: The Tasks

Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide

Gonna find you and take it slowly

Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide

Gonna find you and make you want me

~ Ready or Not x Fugees

Chapter 14: The Tasks

"Well, this isn't how I planned on dying." Theodore struggled to say.

"This really isn't the time, Theo." Draco said as he tried to swat another vine, but failed as another snapped around his wrist, restraining his arm from any other movements.

Indeed, this really wasn't the time, Tobias thought as he tried to fight against the vines that were wrapped around his legs. He was starting to regret sliding down the trapdoor without actually seeing what was at the bottom. He was so excited about going after the stone that he didn't think through all of the obstacles that would be in his way. And even if he did, he would have never thought of this hiding beneath a trapdoor.

While he, Draco, Theodore, and Ron were trying their best to entangle themselves from the vines, Tobias noticed that Hermione and Neville weren't anywhere in the bed of vines. Instead, they were standing with their backs against a nearby wall, watching in horror as the other four boys fought for their lives. As Tobias fought, the vines clamped on harder, trying to prevent as much movement as possible. He became more frustrated as more vines wrapped around him, now entrapping his arms and torso.

"Stop moving!" Hermione cried. "That's Devil's Snare!"

"Well, that helps." Ron growled.

"As much as I enjoy your knack for knowledge, Granger!" Draco called out. "It's really not helping right not."

"Can you two _shut up_?!" Hermione snapped back. She paced the room. "Devil's Snare—Devil's Snare—oh goodness, what did Professor Sprout say?"

"Anytime today, Hermione!" Theodore gasped.

Neville then felt a lightbulb flash above his head. He knew about Devil's Snare. He remembered the exact lesson they had in the greenhouses, how could he not have thought about it before? He quickly turned to Hermione, grabbing her shoulders to stop her pacing.

"Hermione, don't you remember?" He said quickly. "Devil's Snare? It likes the dark and the damp—"

" _So light a fire_!" Hermione finished his sentenced. She then frowned. "But—"She looked at the five boys. "We don't have any wood."

"Wood?!" Tobias exclaimed.

"Have you gone mad?" Theodore choked out.

"No, I have not." Hermione said, crossing her arms across her chest. "We need wood to start a fire."

Tobias closed his eyes. This was the end.

Draco and Ron looked at each other, both apparently aware of what the other was thinking. How could they have missed that Hermione was muggle- born?

"ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?!" They both bellowed. Their voices shook the room, the sound echoing off the walls, causing Neville to cover his ears. Hermione's face went pink, seeing as she completely forgot she could do magic.

She pulled out her wand, muttering a spell, and a jet of flames came out and released the four boys from the plant. They all fell onto their knees, coughing and gasping for air. Theodore rolled on his back, sighing in relief that they had made it out of there alive. He rolled his eyes back to look at Hermione and Neville, who were standing over them.

"Has anybody ever told you that you two are brilliant?"

Ron scoffed. "Brilliant?" He got up and dusted himself off. "'We don't have any wood.' _Honestly."_

* * *

Snape, once again, was residing in his office. He couldn't sleep—his mind on the whole Philosopher's Stone situation. He couldn't help but feel he could've done something to stop Quirrell from going in there. Even if he did study the enchantments a thousand times, something still could go wrong. He was still young, and he was so eager to put himself towards this mission—Snape couldn't help but feel that he may have been _too_ eager. Though the Dark Arts Professor made it very clear that he needed to go in alone, Snape couldn't help but feel that he should have went in with him.

And then there was Tobias LeStrange—or Harry Potter—who, somehow, found out about the stone. There was no doubt that the boy would go after the stone. His devotion to the Dark Lord was clear, and he would do anything to keep Voldemort alive. But Snape also knew that Tobias would disobey his orders because he had no one else. His "parents" were no longer in his life—Rodolphous was dead and Bellatrix was in jail. Lord Voldemort was the only family the boy had—and it sent shivers down Snape's back.

There was a knock on the door, and Snape could only wonder who would be knocking on his door at this hour. Dumbledore was gone, and even if he was back, he would've called Snape to his office. Hoping that it may be Quirrell with the stone—or even Tobias—he flicked his wand, unlocking the door to allow the person to come in.

"Severus." Said Professor McGonagall. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Snape felt a pang of disappointment but did not show it as he greeted the transfiguration professor. "Not at all. Is there something I can help you with?"

Professor McGonagall walked towards his desk. It was apparent that she had something to say that she couldn't afford others to hear. Snape flicked his wand again, casting a silencing charm on the room and shutting the door. She sat down in the seat in front of his desk, her lips pursed.

"Three students from my house are missing Severus, and I am certain that three are missing from yours as well."

Snape internally cursed himself. "Your evidence, Minerva?"

"I was doing my rounds, as always, making sure that all students were accounted for." She said. "And tonight, three of my first-year students were not in bed."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And what does that have to do with my house?"

McGonagall intertwined her hands together, looking at Snape with a knowing look. She knew that he knew what she was referring to. But just like a Slytherin, he wanted her to deliver all the details before coming to any conclusions. But little did Snape know, he wouldn't be able to slither his way out of this one.

"Because the missing students are Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom," she said in a matter- of – fact tone. "And we both know Severus that these three Gryffindors do not travel alone."

And Professor McGonagall was right. Snape cursed himself again—the boy must've gone after the stone, but then again there was no reason to assume. He may have asked the three Gryffindors to retrieve the stone for him. But then again, this was James and Lily Potter's son. Snape suppressed a groan as he rose from his desk, retrieving his robes.

"I will check my house to make sure that my students are accounted for." He said. "For the time being, Minerva, it would be wise to alert the other head of houses—some of their students may be missing as well."

Professor McGonagall nodded, but Snape could tell she was annoyed by his lack of action. She stormed out of the room, leaving the door opened behind her. Snape then left and headed towards the Slytherin common room, but he had a strong feeling in his gut that the three first year boys would not be in bed. He had an even stronger feeling that he knew where they went as well.

* * *

The six were walking down a dark passageway. To where? Nobody knew. But Tobias had been confident that this was the way to the stone, and since nobody had any better ideas, they all followed him. They walked slowly, their head on a swivel. They didn't want another encounter as they did with the Devil's Snare. Nobody said anything. Everyone kept their ears open for any noises, their eyes looking for the Philosopher's Stone.

"Wait, Stop." Tobias suddenly said. "Can you all hear that?"

The other five first years stopped, trying to find the noise Tobias was talking about it. It was a bitter silence for a moment, but then they heard it. A light fluttering sound—an inconsistent fluttering sound. As if something, or _some things_ , was flying around somewhere.

"It sounds like birds." Said Hermione.

"There's only one way to find out." Tobias said. "Come on." And he began to run down the corridor, the other five following him. He couldn't see anything, but he followed the sounds of fluttering ahead, drowning out the shouts and the sounds of feet pounding against the floor.

"I think I see something ahead!" Draco called out.

There was a light growing as they approached the end of the passageway. Tobias ran even faster, eager to see what was ahead. Maybe it would be the stone. Or maybe it was whoever entered the trapdoor before him. He pulled out his wand, and the other's followed suit. He stopped running a few inches from the lighted room, preparing himself for whatever was in the next room. He took a deep breath and walked into the lighted chamber.

The first years looked in awe at the chamber. It was beautifully lit. It had a high ceiling and beautiful birds flying around the room. A brown wooden door was on the other side of the room and two broomsticks laid on the floor next to it.

"So all we have to do is cross the room?" said Draco, cracking his knuckles. "Piece of cake." He took a step towards the middle of the room, but Hermione grabbed his arm, preventing him from taking another step.

"What's the deal, Granger?" He said with a smirk. "Can't stand to see me go?"

She rolled her eyes. "Those aren't birds. Look."

Draco looked up, realizing that these flying creatures weren't birds. Yes, they had wings but they had no beak, or feet, or even feathers. Their body shape was off, and even Draco knew that birds didn't glitter like that.

"They're keys." Tobias whispered.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Whose bright idea was it to make flying keys?"

"My guess would be Professor Flitwick." Tobias said as he walked forward. Hermione wanted to call him back, but quickly shut her mouth when she noticed that the flying keys did not react to Tobias's movements.

Tobias walked to the other side of the room, now face to face with the wooden door. He pulled on the knob, but it was no use. He muttered an unlocking spell, but nothing happened either. He then noticed a key hole above the doorknob. Looking back at the keys, and then again at the lock, Tobias figured out what they need to do.

"The keys," He said, pointing to the swarm of keys flying above them. "One of them is the key to unlocking the door."

"How are we supposed to know which one is the right one?" Ron said. "They're _hundreds_ of them!"

"Look at the door." Said Neville. "It won't be any ole key. It'll be big, old fashioned."

"Like that one." Theodore said, pointing towards a key fluttering through the bunch. It was clearly different from the rest. It was silver instead of gold and it was much bigger than the rest of the keys.

Tobias grabbed the two broomsticks and tossed one to Draco. The two Slytherins then mounted their brooms and kicked off into the air, racing around the room to catch the key. They ducked and dodged flocks of keys that tried to throw them off course, but even then, their target was becoming harder and harder to reach.

"Tobias, I have a feeling this key doesn't want to be caught." Draco said out of breath.

Tobias barely heard him as he zoomed towards the key. He became lost in the rush of the air and the wings of the other keys wiped against his skin. He could see the key clearly, just as he could see Neville's rememberball that day at flying lessons. He pushed his broom forward, stretching out his hand to catch the key.

Draco zoomed in from the other direction, watching Tobias chase the key into a nearby wall. He finally caught on to his cousin's plan—he was trying to trap the key. Draco picked up speed, trying to catch the key in the other direction so that at least one of them could pin it down. The two Slytherins were now neck and neck, hands both stretched to catch the key.

Neville covered his eyes as Hermione, Theodore, and Ron watched intently.

"Leave it to those two to make catching a key this dramatic." Said Theodore, putting his hands in his pockets.

Tobias smashed the key against the wall, and Draco took out of his hold. They both flew back down to the ground and tossed the brooms aside. The other four ran across the room towards them. Draco now held the key in both hands as it struggled against his hold. The blonde Slytherin stuffed the key in the lock and turned it. The lock clicked and Tobias pushed the door opened. They couldn't see anything, only darkness. Tobias turned back to his five friends.

"Ready?"

His friends nodded, and he led them into the next room.

* * *

Snape entered the Slytherin Common room. It was empty, as it should be this time of night. He walked inside slowly, keeping his eyes out for anything out of the ordinary. And it wasn't long until he did find something.

A petrified Pansy Parkinson.

Her body laid stiff on the ground, her eyes wide and her arm stretched. She was holding her wand as if she had meant to cast a spell before she had been petrified. Snape took out his wand and pointed it at the dark- haired girl.

"Finite Incantartem."

Pansy's arm then dropped and all the color returned to her face. She blinked a few times, trying to regain her focus. She then noticed Professor Snape standing above her, and she abruptly sat up, her eyes darting back and forth around the room as if she was looking for someone.

"Looking for someone, Miss Parkinson?" Snape asked.

"Professor Snape," she breathed out. "It's Tobias, he's gone!"

"Gone where?" He asked, though he already knew exactly where he was.

Pansy shrugged. "I don't know! But I know it has something to do with his grandfather! I tried to stop him, but he body- bound me."

"Was he with anyone?"

"He was with Malfoy and Theodore." She nodded.

Snape once again had to suppress a groan. The boy went after the stone. And what made things worse, Quirrell was down there as well, retrieving the actual stone so they could make the swap. If Tobias got there before he did, the plan would be ruined. Lord Voldemort would become immortal. He looked back down at the first year girl sitting below him. He thought about erasing her memory, but seeing as she didn't know much about the situation, he thought better of it.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson. I will go find Mister LeStrange and the others. Please return to bed."

Pansy nodded and stood up, dusting down her nightgown. "He isn't in trouble is he, Professor?"

Snape sighed. Was he in trouble? Snape honestly didn't know. "I believe that is none of your concern. Now please return to bed."

He turned on his heel and walked out of the common room. His next destination: The third floor corridor. He walked swiftly down the corridors, dismissing peeves and the other ghosts. The corridors were empty, the only sounds that could be heard were the heels of Snape's shoes.

When he entered the corridor, the first sign that Tobias LeStrange had been here was spotted. His invisibility cloak was lying on the ground. No doubt it had been used to sneak him, Draco, and Theodore to this side of the castle unnoticed. Snape also noticed that the door leading to Hagrid's dog was opened. He walked to the door, slipping his wand through the crack. He said a spell and next he heard a loud thump and then snoring. The dog was now asleep. Snape slipped through the door and made his way down the trapdoor.

* * *

The six first years now stood in front of what seemed to be a giant chessboard. They stood beside the black chessmen, who were at least three times taller than they were. On the other side were white chessmen of the same size. And behind the white chessmen was another door. Tobias felt his stomach tie itself in knots as he noticed that the chessmen did not have faces.

"Now what?" Draco said.

Theodore and Ron stepped forward, mischievous smiles on their faces.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Theodore.

"We have to play to get across." Said Ron. He looked at the others. "And I think we have to be chessmen."

"All of us?" Neville asked, wringing his hands as he looked at the massive chess pieces.

There was a loud cracking sound, and the five jumped. They turned their heads towards the obstruction to find Theodore standing in front of the black knight, who was now alive. The horse ran its hooves over the ground and the knight was staring down at Theodore.

"Not all of us." Theodore said, turning towards the rest. "There are only three empty spaces. Meaning three of us have to play." He turned back to the knight. "Right?"

The black knight nodded.

"Okay," Ron began. "It's obvious that me and Theodore will be playing, but we need a third man."

Tobias was about to offer himself, seeing as Draco was horrible at wizards chess and he wasn't really sure if Hermione could play or not, but then Neville stepped forward.

"I'll play." He said.

Theodore raised his arms in the air. "Alright, Longbottom!"

Tobias turned to Neville. "Neville, you don't have to play if you don't want. I can play."

"No, Tobias." Neville said shaking his head. "I'll be fine. It's you who needs to get across, not us."

Tobias nodded, and Neville proceeded to take his place on the chessboard. Ron was a knight, Theodore was a bishop, and Neville was a castle. The corresponding chess pieces then walked off the board, finding a place to sit beside Draco, Hermione and Tobias.

"Let the games begin!" Theodore said.

Tobias watched as white moved first—a white pawn moved forward two squares.

Ron and Theodore looked at each other, as if they were both telepathically trying to decide what their next move would be. Tobias watched as Theodore moved diagonally four squares to the right.

"You know what's about to happen next right?" He called out to Ron.

"Yeah." Ron called back, he then looked to the others. "You may want to move, the next move won't be pretty."

Tobias, Hermione, and Draco backed up as far as they could. And based on what happened next, they were grateful that Ron gave them a warning. Their other knight had been taken. The white queen smashed him onto the board and dragged him away.

"That's barbaric." Hermione said with disgust.

"Alright, Neville." Ron shouted. "Now you're free to take the bishop."

Neville walked forward, his legs shaking violently with every step. Once he made his last step, he touched the bishop, claiming it his. The bishop then exploded into a million pieces and one of the black pieces swept him off the board.

"Brilliant, Neville!" Theodore shouted, causing a small smile to spread over Neville's face.

The game went on. Ron and Theodore were losing as many black pieces as they were taking white pieces. Rubble and dust was everywhere. White pieces were exploding by Neville's touch every so often and the black and white pieces were both having their fun smashing and dragging their opponents off the board. This game seemed more violent than Quidditch, and that was saying something. After a while, the board was starting to clear out—the game was almost over.

"We're nearly there." Ron said. "What do you think, Theo?"

"Let me think." Theo replied. His eyes darted across the board. Theodore kept his face leveled throughout his examination, and Tobias couldn't figure out if he had found a solution or not. Theodore finally nodded and turned back to the red- haired Gryffindor.

"I have a solution, but you might not like it."

Ron nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing."

"Thinking what?" Hermione asked, overhearing the conversation.

Ron turned to her. "I have to let them take me."

"What?" Tobias said. "No!"

"It's the only way." Theodore said, grimly. "That's chess."

Ron nodded. "The queen will take me, and then Theodore will be able to check the king. We win."

"It's not worth risking yourself, Weasley." Draco snapped.

"Do you want to save your grandfather or not?" Ron bellowed, growing frustrated with everyone's protests.

Tobias said nothing, but Ron knew his answer.

"I have to do this, Tobias. Otherwise, we lose."

Tobias nodded. He watched as the white queen turned around towards Ron. Ron took a deep breath and stepped forward. The white queen immediately struck him down, and Ron fell to the ground. There was a speck of blood on his forehead and he appeared to be unconscious.

"Bloody hell." Theodore whispered.

Hermione screamed and tried to run onto the chessboard, but Draco grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"If you run onto the board, you'll ruin the game." He said quickly as Hermione struggled in his hold.

The white queen grabbed Ron by his robes and dragged him off the chessboard. Theodore stood there for a moment, but then finally moved forward. Tobias watched as he moved three spaces to the left. He stopped in front of the King, staring fearlessly into the blank face of the chess piece. The king then took off his crown and placed it in front of Theodore's feet before exploding into pieces. The game was over, they had won.

Tobias didn't care for the celebration as they all ran over to Ron, who was still unconscious on the ground. Hermione kneeled beside him. She put her fingers to his neck and sighed in relief that he was breathing.

"He's alive." She said. "But somebody needs to stay with him."

"I'll stay." Said Theodore.

Neville stepped forward. "Me too."

"I'll stay, too." Draco said.

Tobias turned to his best friend. "Draco—"

Draco smirked. "Somebody needs to cover for you. Plus you have Granger."

Tobias clapped his best friend on the shoulder. Loyal, that one was. Hermione got up and dusted herself off. They both walked to the door on the other side. Tobias laid his hand on the doorknob. He turned around one more time, and watched Theodore, Neville, and Draco levitate Ron's body off the chessboard. He looked at Hermione, who gave him a small smile. He twisted the doorknob and they walked inside, entrapped in the darkness once more.

* * *

Quirrell stood in front of the mirror, becoming more frustrated by the minute. He stood inside the gold chamber, the last chamber of the quest. He had made it, he had completed each task, but there was one problem—the stone wasn't there. He knew that the mirror of Erised was supposed to show one their deepest desire, and Quirrell thought he and Snape had done enough occlumency to trick the mirror into showing him with the stone.

But yet the mirror showed him his reflection—him standing beside his mother. His left arm is turned at a certain angle to where Quirrell could see that there was no dark mark. His mother looked as he remembered her when he was younger. There was no fear in her eyes, there was no fear in his. He walked back and forth from the mirror, but it showed him the same thing. He removed himself for a few minutes, closing his eyes to concentrate on the stone, and only the stone. But even then, that didn't work.

The mirror saw past his façade, and saw his true desire. He couldn't stand looking at this image—this reflection showed him no truth. And yet every time he looked into it, he felt as if it was real, in some faraway world—in some distant universe. He grew so frustrated that he punched the mirror, but before his fist could even touch the glass, a force pushed him back away from the mirror. Quirrell looked up, and there was the reflection staring up at him.

There was the life he could've had looking at him. A life with no evil, a life where he was not judged by this mark on his arm. A life where he could be free. A life where his mother was alive, and she saw him as the goodness in the world—instead of the evil that she had seen in him that night. His world fell apart that day, and this whole year he had been working towards getting it back.

He sighed, seeing as that he could still deliver Lord Voldemort the fake stone. He stood up to leave, opening the door to walk out of the chamber when he heard voices in the distant. He listened closely, realizing that the voices were of children, first years. His eyes lit up as he recognized one of the voices. _Tobias._ The boy had come. Quirrell turned back and looked at the image in the mirror. He still had a chance to make things right.

He closed the door and sat back down on the steps, preparing himself for Tobias's arrival.

* * *

Snape walked into the room and noticed that it was nearly destroyed. There were chess pieces everywhere and white dust covered the ground. He walked in slowly, his wand at the ready just in case. He walked into the light, lowering his wand when he noticed four boys—two Gryffindors and two Slytherins sitting in the corner of the room.

"Well, what do we have here?" He sneered.

Draco jumped at the sound of his voice. "Professor!"

Theodore and Neville then turned around, and Neville's face went completely pink. All three of them stood in front of the fourth boy, who Snape saw to be the Weasley boy.

"We can explain!" Neville said desperately. Snape internally rolled his eyes.

"Why yes, Longbottom. Please explain why you four are out after hours, residing in the third- floor corridor which Dumbledore clearly stated was off limits at the beginning of the year?"

Neville went even pinker, Theodore and Draco stepped forward.

"You know why we're here, Professor." Draco said. Theodore nodded in agreement.

Snape looked at the four boys. He indeed knew why they were here, he had just been hoping he was wrong. But seeing the first years covered in dust and soot, he knew they had been up to something. That they were seriously trying to get to the stone.

"Where is Tobias LeStrange?" he asked.

The three boys said nothing, each one not wanting to give away Tobias's location. Even if Snape knew about the stone, he was still a professor. Tobias needed to get his grandfather the stone, and it was their duty to help him get there. Snape seemed to realize that as the silence deepened.

Snape sighed. "What happened to Weasley?"

"He hurt himself in the chess match." Theodore said.

Snape looked at the boy. He was indeed unconscious, and there was a patch of dried up blood on his forehead. He needed to get to the hospital wing.

"We need to get him to the hospital wing."

"We?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, we." Snape snapped back. "Unless you three rather spend the next six years attending another school."

Neville gulped, but Theodore and Draco's stand did not falter.

"You're helping us?" Draco asked. Snape nodded.

Theodore was silent for a moment. "Meaning we're not in trouble?"

Snape groaned. Why was the Nott heir so difficult? "No, Mister Nott, you three, or four rather, are not in trouble. Now we must get Mister Weasley to the hospital wing."

"What about Tobias?" Neville asked, looking at the opened door on the other side of the room.

"I will come back for Mister LeStrange." Snape said softly, looking at the opened door as well. "Get him up. We need to move him quickly."

The three first-year boys aimed their wands at Ron's body and levitated him above the floor.

"Concentrate your magic." Said Snape. "One wrong move and you'll drop him."

He then turned around, leading the way out of the chess room. The three first years right behind him, and Ron's body levitating behind them.

* * *

Hermione held the parchment in her hand, pacing the room as she read it. Tobias stared at the seven bottles sitting on the table in front of them. He turned to look at purple flames blocking the doorway behind them. He then turned towards the black flames blocking the doorway in front of them. According to the parchment, three of the bottles are poison, two are wine, one would get them through the purple flames, and one would get them through the black flames. But the question was: Which was which?

Hermione clapped her hands together as she dropped the parchment. Tobias watched her walk over to the table, picking up each and every bottle and examining it. She picked up the smallest bottle.

"This will get us through the black fire." She said proudly.

Tobias looked at the bottle and frowned. There was barely enough in there for one person. How was he and Hermione supposed to share that?

Hermione then picked up a round bottle at the right end of the table. "This will get us through the purple flames."

"You're sure?" Tobias asked.

Hermione nodded. "Positive."

Tobias looked at the round bottle, and again it was barely enough for the both of them.

"Hermione," He said. "you know there isn't enough for both of us?"

Hermione smirked. "Because both of us aren't supposed to go through the flames. These defenses were set up for one person to try to get passed them, not two." She handed Tobias the small bottle.

"You're the one that needs to get to the stone, Tobias." She said as took the top off the round bottle. "Not me, not Ron, not Draco. You."

Tobias looked down at the small bottle in his hand. To be honest, he was nervous. If Hermione left, he would be by himself. What if he needed them in the next task?

"What about you?"

Hermione smiled. "I'll go find Draco and the others. We'll be here as soon as you get back."

Tobias nodded. "Okay, but go find Professor Snape. If you find him, tell him where I am."

"Why?"

"I don't know who's waiting on the other side. It may be him, it may be Quirrell, or maybe someone else. If you find Snape, then you'll know I'm in trouble. And he'll help me."

Hermione frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Hermione stood there for a moment before throwing her arms around Tobias. Tobias was startled at first, but wrapped his arms around her. His cheeks grew red with embarrassment as the hug lasted longer than expected.

"Uh, Hermione?"

Hermione quickly let him go. "Sorry." She bit her lip. "You're a great wizard, Tobias."

Tobias chuckled. "Not as good as you."

"Books!" Hermione scoffed. "There are more important things like friendship….and bravery."

Tobias looked at his bushy- haired friend. He unscrewed the top to the potion and held it up to hers. "To friendship and bravery."

"To friendship and bravery." Hermione said. They then both swallowed their potions, both shuddering from the effects.

"It's like ice." Tobias said.

Hermione nodded in agreement. She turned around to walk through the purple flames. But before she walked through, she turned around one more time. She watched as Tobias walked towards the black flames on the other side, preparing to step through to the next task.

"Tobias!" She called out and the dark haired Slytherin turned around to face her once more.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

Tobias smirked. "No promises." And he stepped through the black flames. Hermione watched as the black flames died out as he stepped to the other side.

Tobias watched the black flames dance around his body, but was relieved that he could not feel them. He took his time walking through the fire. He tried to prepare himself for whatever was waiting for him on the other side. Hermione was gone, Draco was gone—he was now all alone. He pulled his wand out as he neared the end of the flaming passage.

He then entered a golden chamber. The room was small and shined brighter than the chandelier in his manor. He looked down to notice a mirror—he knew that mirror. It was the mirror of Erised. This is where Dumbledore moved it. But Tobias then felt his heart sink into his stomach as he noticed someone was standing in front of the mirror.

The man smiled at him through the reflection in the mirror. "Mister LeStrange. What a surprise."

 **Author's Note: Not a dramatic cliffhanger, but I wanted to save the Tobias and Quirrell confrontation for the next chapter. We're almost there you guys! Thank you for all the follows and reviews!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	15. SS15: Lily's Son

Everything I am, and everything in me.

I'll also be the one you wanted me to be

I'll never let you down, even if I could

I'd give up everything if only for your good

So hold me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong

You can hold me when I'm scared, you won't always be there

So love me when I'm gone.

~When I'm Gone x 3 Doors Down

Chapter 15: Lily's Son

Hermione turned to face the purple flames as Tobias disappeared. Closing her eyes, she stepped through the flames. She couldn't feel them as she walked very quickly through the fire. She opened her eyes once again to find herself back inside the chess room.

She looked around for Draco, Neville, Theodore, and Ron, but they were nowhere to be found. She began to panic—where had they gone? They were in trouble. She then remembered what Tobias said. Find Professor Snape. So she ran out of the chess room, hoping to find the Potion's master, or someone who could help her.

She climbed her way through the trapdoor, raising her eyebrows at the fact that Fluffy was asleep but there was no music was playing. Someone had come in after them—and that someone had Draco and the rest. She quickly grabbed Tobias's invisibility cloak and hurried out of the third-floor corridor.

She searched everywhere. She kept her ears opened for any sign of her four friends. But as she continued to walk through the corridors, she heard nothing, only the bitter silence of the Hogwarts castle at three o clock in the morning. Though she was in a rush, she had to be careful. Maybe the person who came after the boys was looking for her as well. After about thirty minutes and no luck, Hermione headed towards Snape's office—he would help her, Tobias said that he would. She walked faster as she entered the dungeons—the anticipation burning in her chest. How could it be possible that she was hoping she would but then hoping that she wouldn't find Professor Snape in his office?

She didn't bother to knock as she pushed the door opened, not once thinking about why it was so easy to open, when she found one of her hopes to be true.

"Draco!" She breathed out.

The blonde Slytherin snapped his head towards her. "Hermione!" He ran over and hugged her, quickly pulling her into the room and closing the door to Snape's office. He dragged her over to a nearby table where Theodore and Neville were sitting. But where was Ron?

"Where's Ron?" She asked, her eyes wondering around the room for the freckled- face Gryffindor.

"Snape took him to the hospital wing." Said Theodore as looked through a stack of papers on the potion master's desk.

"Theodore are those exams?!" Hermione exclaimed, completely forgetting why the boys were in the room in the first place.

Theo nodded. "Ours to be exact." He lifted up one. "I did better than I thought I did."

Hermione snatched the papers out of his hands. "You're not supposed to be looking at those!" She hissed.

"Well, I needed something to do." He huffed back. "It's awfully boring in here."

Hermione shook her head, turning back to face Draco. "Nevermind _that._ Snape took Ron to the hospital wing?"

Draco nodded. "He found us in the chess room and offered to help us. Uh, Hermione, your face is turning pale again."

And indeed it was. If Snape had helped Draco, Neville, and Theodore, that meant he wasn't the one down in the chamber with Tobias. And that meant…

"Hermione what's wrong?" Draco said, grabbing the witch by her shoulders.

She looked at him, her brown eyes wide. "Tobias is in trouble."

"What?" Draco hissed. "How do you know?"

Hermione shook her head frantically. "He said if I found Professor Snape, then I would know he's in trouble." She looked back at the blonde Slytherin. "Snape's in the hospital wing."

By that time, Theodore and Neville had joined the two in the middle of the room.

"So now what?" said Theodore.

"We go tell Snape of course." Draco said quickly. "You have Tobias's cloak, don't you Hermione?" The bushy- haired witch nodded.

"Okay, me and Hermione will go to the hospital wing. You two stay here just in case Snape comes back."

"Rodger Dodger." Theodore responded as Neville simply nodded.

Draco stooped down so Hermione could cover them both with Tobias's invisibility cloak. They quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

* * *

"Mister LeStrange. What a surprise."

Tobias stayed where he was. This is why he couldn't find Professor Quirrell earlier today—he had been preparing to retrieve the stone. But now that he was here, he would want to know how Tobias knew about it. How would he lie about Hagrid telling him about the enchantments? How would he lie about overhearing the Malfoy's conversation that night on Christmas Eve? How would he lie about the books, the conversations in the library? The conversations they had when they were supposed to be working on their project for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The project.

Tobias suddenly returned to reality. He saw that Quirrell was smiling at him. Why was he smiling? Tobias was in the third- floor corridor, he was out of bed after hours. Quirrell was a Hogwarts professor. _Why was he smiling?_ Why wasn't he lecturing him about the rules he was breaking—the rules that he had broken? It then clicked—Quirrell wanted him to be here. He stepped forward, slipping his hands in his pockets.

"No, professor." He said casually. "I don't think this is a surprise."

Quirrell's smile didn't falter as he put his hands behind his back. "And what makes you say that?"

Tobias took another step forward, eyeing the man in front of him. It all made sense now. How did he not suspect it before? But why did Quirrell want him to be here? Why did he want him to find out about the stone?

"I think you wanted me to be here tonight." The Slytherin continued. "That's why you assigned us the project."

"A project is a project, Mister LeStrange." Professor Quirrell chuckled. "As a professor, it is my duty to assign homework and projects. None which should have led you into this chamber tonight."

"But it seems strange doesn't it?" Tobias kept his facial expression leveled. Quirrell knew the boy was figuring him out—but he needed to stall him a little more. He needed him vulnerable.

"You give me and my friends a project on the Philosopher's Stone, a stone that's been hidden here in the very school we attend, a stone that would save _my_ grandfather" The boy stalked closer, his hands still in his pockets. Quirrell shifted uncomfortably, but tried to keep his stance—looking at Tobias now was like watching a miniature Voldemort. If Quirrell wasn't so focused on trying to save the boy, he would've left moments before this confrontation.

Tobias walked casually towards the man, his steps small and lazy. Everything was coming together now. Quirrell had been planning this since the beginning of the year. Tobias had been caught up in the actual stone, he had forgotten what brought it to his attention in the first place.

"You could've given any other student that topic, but you knew they wouldn't search deep enough to where they would end up _here_. Because you knew the research would become personal for me."

"That's a very wild accusation, Mister LeStrange." Said Quirrell, his hands still behind his back.

Tobias nodded. "Yes, but it's true, isn't it? That's why you and Snape waited so long to retrieve it—you were waiting for the right moment. You were waiting for me to come after it myself." He looked into the eyes of the Dark Arts Professor, daring him to lie.

"How did you find out?"

"I've known since Halloween, when you sent in the troll as a distraction for Snape to steal."

Quirrell chuckled again. "Well, trolls are my specialty."

Tobias walked closer, his fingers gripped tight around his wand. "So this was your plan all along? To get me inside the chamber?"

Quirrell nodded. "Yes."

Tobias nodded again. Quirrell wasn't sure what he should say next, or what he should even do. But the boy didn't give him time to do either. Tobias whipped out his wand and stupefied the professor into a nearby wall. Quirrell was now lying on the ground, the Slytherin first year standing above him, his wand an inch from his neck. Quirrell felt his heart stop as he could've sworn he saw a glint of red in the boy's eyes.

"Why?" Tobias hissed.

* * *

Snape stayed in the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey finished with her examinations and care for the Weasley boy. He could not believe he was doing all of this for Arthur's son. So he wouldn't believe it—he was doing this for Tobias, because Ron was Tobias's friend, and that Tobias was Lily's son. He watched as the scratches disappeared from the ginger's face and as Madam Pomfrey wiped the blood from his forehead. The boy was lucky that Snape came when he did—he had taken a nasty blow to the head. If he had been brought any later, he might've been sent to St. Mungo's and given the circumstances of his injuries—that would've been a disaster.

Snape rose from his seat once he saw that Ron was well taken care of. He stood up to return to his office, where he had left Malfoy, Nott, and Longbottom. He didn't know how long he had been gone, but started to regret leaving the Nott heir in his office for so long. He walked out of the hospital wing, his only obligation to get back to his office as soon as possible before Theodore made a mess out it. He was stalled as he bumped into something, causing a loud _ompf_ and a thump to be heard. He looked down to notice two pairs of shoes. Snape rolled his eyes as he snatched the invisibility cloak, revealing Malfoy and Granger sitting on the floor.

"What are you two doing out in the corridors?" He whispered. "Malfoy I told you to stay in my office!"

Hermione quickly stood up, stepping in front of Draco. "Tobias is in trouble, professor."

Snape looked at the witch. Tobias was in trouble? "In trouble with who?"

"I don't know." She whispered frantically. "Before he went into the next room, he told me to come find you. And if I did, then I would know that he's in trouble."

Snape looked at the two first years. How could this be possible? Quirrell was in the chamber—how could the boy be in trouble?

"Return back to my office. I will go find Mister LeStrange."

Draco stepped forward. "Let us come with you."

"No." Snape said quickly. "You two will return to my office. And you will _stay there._ "

Draco glared at him, but Hermione grabbed his arm, persuading him to follow the professor's orders. Snape handed Hermione back the invisibility cloak and she threw it over her and Draco's head. Snape watched as they walked back down the corridor to the dungeons. He then set off to return to the third- floor corridor once again.

* * *

Quirrell didn't say anything. He slowly put down his wand and dug into his robes' pocket. He pulled out the fake Philosopher's Stone, squinting his eyes from the red glow that reflected from the lights. He watched as Tobias's eyes grew bigger in awe. He watched as Tobias lowered his wand. Quirrell looked into the boy's eyes. It was now or never.

"Tobias, do you know what this is?" He said slowly.

"The Philosopher's stone." The boy breathed out.

Quirrell nodded, he then looked towards the Mirror of Erised. "Do you know what that is?" Tobias nodded again.

"What do you see in it?" He asked as he slowly got up. He watched as Tobias walked slowly towards the mirror. As Tobias stood in front of the mirror, Quirrell stood to the side to allow him to see the image clearly.

Tobias watched as his parents appeared by his side. He knew it wasn't real, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the mirror. Why was this the last task?

"I see my parents," He said softly, wiping his eyes of the tears that threatened to fall.

Quirrell stepped closer. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus LeStrange?"

Tobias nodded, his eyes never leaving the image of him standing beside his parents. Quirrell stepped closer.

"Tobias, do you know why your grandfather is sick?"

The Slytherin came back to reality, turning his head to stare at the blue eyed man. It was an interesting question, a question Tobias did not know the answer to.

Tobias shook his head. "No."

Quirrell paused for a moment. He knew that anything he said after this point, it would make things difficult—dangerous. He took a step closer.

"It's because of your mother. Because of her love."

Tobias raised an eyebrow at the professor. "My mother was a faithful follower of my grandfather's cause. She would never do anything to harm him."

"Bellatrix LeStrange wouldn't, but your mother would."

Tobias turned to fully face Quirrell. What was he on about? "Bellatrix LeStrange _is_ my mother." He said lowly.

Quirrell took another step forward. "No, Tobias. She isn't."

Tobias looked back into the mirror, the image of him standing beside his parents emerging once more. There she was, Bellatrix LeStrange, the same woman from the portraits at his manor. The reflection of the woman put a hand on his shoulder, and Tobias could've sworn he actually felt her touch.

"You're lying." He growled.

"October 31st, 1981." Quirrell began. "Lord Voldemort arrives in front of a house in Godric's Hallow."

Tobias didn't care to hear the professor's story. He raised his wand once again. "I have no time for stories, Professor."

Quirrell flicked his wand and Tobias's wand flew out of his hand. As the boy glared at him, Quirrell continued with his story. "A man, woman and child are sitting in the living room. The man notices Voldemort first and tells the woman to take the child and run."

"Shut up." Tobias said through gritted teeth. Why was he listening to this? This story had nothing to do with him.

"Voldemort kills the man first, and then goes upstairs to find the woman and the child." Quirrell walked closer. "He raises his wand to the woman, telling her to move, but she stands firm to defend the child. So Voldemort kills her. He then steps over her body, and aims his wand at the child."

"Why are you telling me this?!" Tobias bellowed. He could feel his breathing becoming heavier. He wanted to hex Quirrell, yet he couldn't do it.

"He raises his wand to the child, but something happens, and he decides not to kill the child as he intentionally planned. Instead, he takes the boy. And raises him as his own."

Quirrell stepped even closer, his chest now pressed against the tip of Tobias's wand. "That boy is you, Tobias."

Tobias took a step back. "No." He shook his head frantically, covering his ears as if to block out the story Quirrell had just told him. These were lies—his grandfather would never raise his wand to a child. He would never kill unarmed people—innocent people.

"YOU'RE LYING!" He screamed. The chamber then shook, causing several of the lights above to flicker and blow out. Glass fell from the ceiling, and Quirrell ducked to prevent the falling pieces from falling onto him.

"MY MOTHER IS IN AZKABAN! MY FATHER WAS KILLED IN THE WAR!"

The room shook some more, more violently than before.

"No Tobias!" Quirrell screamed over the rumbling. "Your grandfather killed your parents! Your real parents!"

"SHUT UP!"

Debris now fell from the ceiling. Quirrell watched as the boy's magic reacted against the room, causing the room to shake at the level similar to an earthquake. Dust and glass fell from the ceiling, but for some reason, none of the debris touched Tobias. It was if his body was surrounded by an invisible force field.

Tobias felt the anger flow through his veins. How dare Quirrell tell him these lies about his grandfather? How dare he tell him these lies about his parents? He didn't know—he didn't know anything about him. He was so caught up in his anger, that he didn't notice the chamber falling apart around him. He only saw Quirrell and the tears burning in his eyes.

"Your grandfather is not who you think he is." Quirrell said desperately. "He has murdered innocent people! He has manipulated the minds of great wizards and used them to do his bidding. He murdered the people who stood against him! He's a monster!"

"LIAR!"

Quirrell felt a force push him backward into a wall. His vision became blurry for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure, standing up once more to face the distraught first year.

"I'm telling the truth, Tobias!" He screamed. "He's dangerous. And I can't have you growing up thinking that he cares about you, because he doesn't!"

Tobias shook his head. "No. He loves me! He cares about me!"

"Lord Voldemort only cares about himself!" Quirrell spat. "He will never be capable of showing love to _anyone_. He only uses people."

Tobias kept shaking his head.

Quirrell held up the fake stone. "This is why this stone is fake! If Voldemort becomes immortal, he will destroy the very world we live in! He will destroy everything you hold dear! Tobias I need you to listen to me! He will corrupt your mind!"

Tobias looked back at the mirror. He watched as the image of his parents returned again, his mother's hand still on his shoulder. Quirrell was lying—he had to be. He was trying to get him to turn on his grandfather. He looked at his own reflection and watched as it pulled a red, sparkling stone out of its pocket. The reflection then put the stone back in the pocket, and Tobias felt something rub against his own. He reached in his pocket, and felt his fingers tense as he came in contact with the Philosopher's stone. He looked back at Quirrell, holding the other stone in his hand. It _was_ a fake.

"NO!" Quirrell was shot back again, and this time, more debris fell. Quirrell tried to get up, but groaned in agony as he realized his leg was broken, a rock had fallen on his leg. He sat and watched as the lights flickered violently as Tobias's magic unraveled more and more through his anger.

"HE TRUSTED YOU!" Tobias yelled back. "AND YOU BETRAYED HIM!"

"For good reason, Tobias!" Quirrell cried, the pain in his leg increasing. "LISTEN TO ME!"

"NO!" Tobias covered his ears. "SHUT UP!" The room now shook, causing a continuous violent vibration. Quirrell watched as the walls fell apart, large pieces of debris and glass falling from the ceiling. There was a fire burning in the middle of the room, separating him from Tobias. Quirrell watched as the once beautiful chamber fell apart. He closed his eyes, taking in the last few moments he knew he had left.

This was the end.

* * *

Snape re- entered the chess room when he felt a light vibration coming from the walls. The room shook a little, causing dust to fall and the broken chess pieces to shake as well. He walked slowly, keeping his eye out for the cause of the vibration, but the room was as clear as it was when he left.

He proceeded to the next room, where he found the two empty bottles of potion—he suspected that Granger used the one to return to the other side of the room and Tobias used to other to proceed into the chamber. He waved his wand, extinguishing the flames on both sides of the room. He then made his way across the room, but stumbled as the room began to shake—this time more violently than the vibration in the chess room. Snape held on to the wall, bracing himself against the vibration. Who could have started a vibration so violent? Quirrell said nothing about tearing down the chamber, so it wouldn't have been him. And the boy would have no reason to destroy the chamber, whether he found the stone or not.

As he stood there, he heard voices—two voices. They were screaming at each other, but Snape couldn't hear what was being said through the loud thumps and crashes also coming from the other side. The chamber was falling apart. Snape carefully moved forward, grabbing on to any and everything as the room shook again. The potions on the table fell to the ground, the poison seeping through the floor, causing small holes to appear. As Snape walked closer to the door, he was now aware of the voices that were screaming.

It was Tobias and Quirrell.

"MY MOTHER IS IN AZKABAN! MY FATHER WAS KILLED IN THE WAR!" He heard the boy scream.

Snape braced himself against the door as the room shook again. He repositioned himself, his ear now pressed against the wood.

"No Tobias!" This was now the voice of Quirrell speaking. "Your grandfather killed your parents! Your real parents!"

"SHUT UP!"

Snape took a step back. This was Quirrell's plan. He wanted the boy to come into the chamber, that's why he insisted that he would go and get the stone alone. This is why he hadn't refused to go after it once Snape told him that Tobias knew. He wanted him to know. He wanted Tobias to enter the chamber. So he could tell him the truth.

Snape returned his ear to the door, bracing himself once again.

"Lord Voldemort only cares about himself!" He heard Quirrell spat. "He will never be capable of showing love to _anyone_. He only uses people."

Snape held on to the wall as the room shook again.

"This is why this stone is fake! If Voldemort becomes immortal, he will destroy the very world we live in! He will destroy everything you hold dear! Tobias I need you to listen to me! He will corrupt your mind!"

"NO!"

This time the room began to shake again, and this time it did not stop. Snape watched as the walls of the room he was standing in began to fall apart—the holes in the ground from the poison grew wider and the candles surrounding the room fell, a fire erupting around the room. There were flames of black and purple everywhere—a reaction from the spilled potions. As the flames began to spread, Snape quickly turned around and opened the door, closing himself into the chamber.

Snape looked around, noticing that the chamber's condition was worse than the previous room. He noticed Tobias first. He was standing on his side of the chamber, his back to Snape. His hair was everywhere, and Snape could tell that he was breathing heavily—an effect from his anger. He also noticed that the debris falling from the ceiling was not touching Tobias, as if something was protecting him from getting hurt. Snape then across the room to notice Quirrell, who was sitting on the ground with his eyes closed. Snape felt a small pang in his chest—was he dead?

"Does Snape know?" Tobias asked. "Does Snape know the stone is fake?!"

Quirrell opened his eyes, and Snape felt a wave of relief flow through him. They made eye contact for a second before Quirrell turned his view to Tobias.

"No, Snape did not know I had a fake stone made."

"That's hard to believe," The boy sneered. "seeing as he was the one who made my broom malfunction during the Quidditch match. It sounds likely that he would've used his dark magic to conjure a fake stone as well."

Quirrell laughed weakly. "Snape didn't cast that jinx on your broom, Tobias. I did. Snape was trying to _save_ you. "

Tobias went quiet and Snape looked to the mirror sitting in the middle of the room. It was cracked, but Snape could still see the reflection clearly. He saw himself, a much younger self. And he saw a girl standing beside him. He felt his heart clench as he recognized that red hair and that light skin—and those _eyes._ Lily. She was smiling at him—the same smile that she always had when she was with him. The smile that made him believe his life wasn't all bad.

"But why?" He heard the boy ask.

He tore his eyes away from the reflection, focusing back on the situation in front of him. He took out his wand and muttered a spell. He watched as Tobias's body fell lightly to the ground. Snape walked towards the boy, making sure the spell had worked and that Tobias was now asleep. He checked his body for any bruises or scratches from the debris, but his skin was flawless—it was as if the debris hadn't touched him at all. He raised his eyebrows as he saw something bulging through the boy's pocket. Snape reached inside and felt his fingers rub against the Philosopher's Stone. The _real_ Philosopher's stone. How did Tobias get it?

"Severus." He heard a feeble voice say.

Snape snapped his head up, his eyes coming into contact with Quirrell's. Snape put the stone in his pocket, waving his wand to extinguish the flames separating him from his colleague. He walked quickly to the other side of the room, levitating rocks blocking his path until he finally reached the other side. Snape knelt down beside the man, taking his wand out once again to remove the rocks from his legs.

"No. Don't." Quirrell choked out.

"What have you done, Quirinus?" Snape said softly. He looked at the man—blood was now dripping from his forehead and his skin was covered with scratches and cuts.

"He had to know the truth, Severus." Quirrell said, looking at the young Slytherin laying before them. "I couldn't let what happened to me, happen to him."

Snape said nothing. Quirrell had risked his life so Tobias would know the truth about his. All this time, this was Quirrell's plan to forgive himself for what he had done to his mother. He didn't want Tobias to make the same mistakes as him. He didn't want Tobias to meet the same fate that he had, that Snape had, that all of them had.

Snape returned back to reality to find Quirrell staring at him, his blue eyes glistening through his tears. He grabbed onto Snape's robes, and Snape could feel his strength leaving him.

"Don't give up on him, Severus." He said softly. "He needs you."

Snape shook his head. "He needs the Order."

"I wish it was that easy." Quirrell chuckled weakly. He paused, and Snape could feel his hold weakening.

"But you're all he has right now, Severus, so be there for him. Help him, guide him. And when he finds out the truth, stand beside him. Can you promise me that?"

Snape was silent. This was the end. He watched as his colleague fought against his last moments—he watched as they sat there, in the midst of destruction. He looked into Quirrell's eyes once more—his black ones meeting his blue ones for the last time. Quirrell then dropped his hold and his head fell slowly to the side. He was gone. Snape took two fingers and lightly shut his former colleague's eyes.

"I promise." He whispered.

He then stood up and walked back over to Tobias's sleeping body. He knelt down to lift him up. He looked down at the boy's face—he looked exactly like James. But in this moment, Snape could not think about his former enemy. He could not think about that he was holding James Potter's child in his arms. All he could think about was Lily—all he could think about was Quirrell.

He walked out of the room, Tobias in his arms. He felt nothing, everything—physically and emotionally- was numb. He walked slowly back to the potion room, through the chess room, and back through the trapdoor. But he did not stop there, he kept walking through the corridors.

 _"Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real. Isn't it?"_

 _"It's real for us."_

He did not stop when Professor McGonagall spotted him the hallway, immediately asking what had happened and why Tobias's robes were covered in dirt and soot. Snape ignored her, despite her consistency, and continued down the corridor. He unconsciously clutched the boy tighter in his arms.

 _"Really?" she whispered._

 _"Definitely."_

Snape let his legs take him through the Hogwarts castle, as he could barely focus on what was happening in front of him. Professor McGonagall was still on his heels and now Professor Sprout and Flitwick were right along with her, asking for explanations. But Snape could barely hear them.

 _"And will it really come by owl?"_

 _"Normally. But you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents."_

Snape then found himself in front of the hospital wing. He walked through the doors, saying nothing as Madam Pomfrey quickly ran over and tried to take Tobias out of Snape's arms. But Snape would not let go of him. He walked over to the hospital bed beside the Weasley boy, and carefully laid Tobias's body down on the bed. All the fussing ceased as the young Slytherin stirred, and for a brief moment opened his eyes. Snape stared at the boy, taking in his green eyes. Her green eyes. Tobias then let his head fall to the side and returned back to sleep.

 _"Does it make a difference, being Muggle- born?"_

 _"No. It doesn't make any difference."_

Snape then turned around and left the hospital wing, still refusing to speak to any of the Professors.

 **Author's Note: Short chapter I know, but it was really hard to right. I wanted the Tobias/ Quirrell confrontation to be perfect, as well as Snape's promise to Quirrell. If you aren't aware, the conversation in Italics is between young Snape and Lily Potter from the Deathly Hallows.**

 **Thank you for all the reviews so far, your comments are helping me shape the story. There is only one more chapter for this part of the story, and then we will move on to The Chamber of Secrets!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	16. SS16: Fallen Beginnings

Step by step, heart to heart, left right left

We all fall down

Like toy soldiers

~Like Toy Soldiers x Eminem

Chapter 16: Fallen Beginnings

The House of Black was quiet once more. The news of Quirrell's death came through earlier that morning. Dumbledore arranged the funeral right away, seeing as Quirrell had no family to alert. They buried him beside his mother in Britain. After the quick service, the Order returned to 12 Grimmauld Place, their minds set on plans for what was next, seeing as yet again, they've lost another valuable member. But their hearts could not ignore what happened the night before. They could not ignore the cause of Quirrell's death.

They could not ignore that Harry Potter was the one that killed him.

"Are you _sure_ it was him?" Molly Weasley asked dryly. She was shocked the most when Dumbledore informed them all that Tobias's magic was the reason the chamber fell apart. That he was responsible for the destruction that led to Quirrell's broken leg and then later on his death.

"Yes, Molly, it was him." Dumbledore answered. Dumbledore sat at his usual seat at the head of the table. This is why he did not want to tell the boy the truth at the young age he was at. He knew as a child, he would be oblivious to the actual destruction and pain Voldemort was able to cause. He knew that Voldemort would treat him as his own, so there would be no doubt that the boy was devoted to him. He was too young, and now it had cost him another life.

"We don't even know the whole story." Lupin protested, not wanting to believe that his best friend's son killed a teacher, killed an Order member. Out of rage. "Snape should be here to tell us what happened. We need to know the truth, not word of mouth. No offense to you professor, but you have a tendency to leave out details that we need to know!" Lupin's voice rose higher with every word, and Dumbledore could not blame him for his anger.

Though there was a part of him that did not want to believe it, Dumbledore had to face the reality that it was true. He had to face the reality that this was not the first time he had seen someone die due to someone else's magical imbalance of emotions. And sitting here today, he felt the same way he did those many years ago—when his sister murdered his mother. It was a battle of emotions.

Should he be upset at the boy, for killing a teacher, a comrade, a friend? Or should he forgive him, because it was a mistake? He couldn't control it—he was unaware of the destruction his magic was unleashing. Maybe he should've stepped in and taken the boy when he had the chance. Maybe he should've stopped at no ends, risking it all so that the boy would end up in the right hands. But would that have stopped Quirrell from dying? Would that have changed the timeline and prevented the boy from being there?

It was too late to think of it now.

"Severus had other business to attend to." He said. "But I know he would've wanted to be here if he hadn't. Quirrell was a friend of his as well."

Lupin glared at the old professor, soon scoffing and returning his view back to the table. Everything felt like it did the night the Potter's died. The atmosphere was tense, everybody was caught up in their own grief and regrets. Dumbledore was the only one who could push them to continue with their lives, and to make them understand that James and Lily were in a better place. To ensure them that they had done all they could, that sometimes bad things happen to good people.

So Dumbledore stood once more, and watched as the eyes of his fellow order members met his gaze.

"We have lost someone today, yes. But we must remember that we must not lose ourselves, we must still be the people the world needs us to be. People die every day—loved ones, friends, family—but we must not let their sacrifices and their lives be in vain."

The old professor paused, and he could see the emotions unveiling themselves in his audience's eyes. He watched as Lupin's glare turned to a soft stare—no doubt he was thinking of James, Peter, and Sirius. He looked at the Weasleys, who no doubt were thinking about if they had lost one of their children. And Mad- Eye, who had lost his son in the last wizarding war.

"This isn't about Harry. This isn't about Quirrell. This about making this world a better place, so that our children and our children's children can live in peace and harmony."

Arthur nodded, clutching his wife tighter.

"We must not lose sight of that. We must not lose hope. We must keep fighting."

* * *

Snape watched as Lord Voldemort drunk the last drops of the Elixir of Life—or what he thought was the Elixir of Life. After returning to his office and safely returning the rest of the first years to their common rooms, he went to deliver the stone to LeStrange Manor. It was at least seven o clock in the morning when he arrived, and he knew that the Dark Lord would be up and about. He was let in by the house elves and escorted to Voldemort's study, where he sat reading today's Daily Prophet. He smiled wickedly as Snape pulled the stone out his pocket and immediately asked him to brew the potion.

As Snape sat there watching, his mind was far from LeStrange Manor. Quirrell was dead, and it was Tobias's doing. Of course, the boy didn't know his magic was the cause of the destruction—but it still didn't change the fact that it was him. And even though it was him, Quirrell wanted Snape to continue to help the boy—to guide him. To never give up on him. But how could Snape do that? When the boy is the reason Quirrell is dead.

"And you say it was the boy that killed him?"

Snape was brought back to the reality of the situation as Lord Voldemort's high pitched voice broke his concentration. His focus returned to the pale wizard in front of him. He could see the effects of the potion kicking in and he imagined that the Dark Lord now felt rejuvenated. And of course, the first topic of the morning would be Tobias's emotional outburst.

"Yes, it was him." Snape responded.

The Dark Lord smiled. "So much raw magic—powerful raw magic. He was able to tear down a whole chamber, without control. Amazing."

Snape frowned. Of course Voldemort would relish in this fact. "Shouldn't we focus on teaching Tobias how to control his magic, my Lord?"

"And we will, Severus." The Dark Lord said casually. "But such a young age, and that much magic." He stopped to look at his servant. "He will do great things, Severus. This is just the beginning."

Snape wanted to snort at his master's statement. Great things? Tobias just killed a man—at the age of eleven. And here was his supposed grandfather, excited about what he had done. This was dangerous, and Snape could see it. He could see in Lord Voldemort's eyes the destruction and the pain that was to come in the future. He could see that Tobias was the center of it. And seeing the boy last night, standing there enraged in the midst of fire and destruction—it scared Snape. Because if they failed to get through to Tobias, the next setting will not be a small chamber—it will be the world. Covered in flames and fallen soldiers and debris. And Tobias will be standing in the middle of it.

"Did you hear me, Severus?"

Snape returned back to reality once again, unaware that he was lost in his thoughts once again.

"I'm sorry my Lord, what did you say?"

"I need you to watch over the boy for me, as well as the other heirs." His master said. "They need someone to trust, and I want it to be you."

Snape nodded. "Consider it done."

 _Great. Harry Potter has now fallen into my permanent care._

"I also need you to do something else for me, Severus." The Dark Lord said.

"And that is?"

Voldemort turned around in his seat, his head tilted towards the portrait of Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Snape had a strange feeling that he knew where this was going, but he hoped he was wrong. Very wrong.

"Quirrell has put us at a disadvantage—revealing the boy's heritage to him."

Snape's stomach dropped.

"He may start to ask questions. About his _real_ parents. And we both know Severus that cannot happen."

Snape felt his whole body go rigid. He couldn't move, his mind stuck on what the Dark Lord was asking him to do.

"So you want me to erase his memory?"

Voldemort turned back around. "Not erase it, modify it. He should have no recollection of what Quirrell told him."

At those words, Snape had to decide. But hadn't he already decided last night? Tobias was his responsibility—he was his promise to Quirrell. But he had made a promise to Lord Voldemort many years before. So now he was here—deciding whether to wipe the memory of a young boy or to risk his and Tobias's life. He looked back at his master, who was awaiting his answer.

"It will be done, my Lord."

* * *

"Shhhh you guys! He's waking up!"

Tobias slowly opened his eyes, his hands feeling around his surroundings. He was in a bed, but it wasn't his. He snapped his eyes opened to discover that he was in the hospital wing. He sat up and noticed that his five friends were sitting around his bed. Apparently, they had been watching him sleep.

He wiped his eyes. "How long have you all been here?"

"Not long." Draco shrugged. "McGonagall let us leave class early so we come and check on you."

Theodore chuckled. "Zabini was hacked off about it too."

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.

Tobias shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Everything's still a little cloudy—I really don't remember what happened."

His five friends looked at each other, and Tobias could tell they knew something he didn't.

"What is it?"

All the boys looked to Hermione, looking to her to break the news—whatever the news was. She rolled her eyes and placed her hands in her lap. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. She looked at Tobias, and he could feel his heart pounding against his chest. What happened? He tried to steady his breathing to prepare him for what she was about to say.

"Snape returned to his office last night, without you." She began slowly. "We tried to ask him what happened and where you were. But he wouldn't listen to us—he just kept telling us to take the invisibility cloak and return to our common rooms. But we didn't go back to our common rooms. We went back to the third- floor corridor."

"We went through all the rooms again, looking for you. We thought Snape might've left you down there. We then entered the potion room, and it was destroyed."

Tobias held his breath. _Oh no._

"Glass was everywhere and there were holes in the ground and debris. We started to panic so we ran to the next room and…"

Tobias felt his heart stop. He remembered what happened now. His anger. The chamber. The magic he'd unleashed. He tore the chamber apart. He was so upset at Quirrell that he didn't realize what he was doing. He didn't want to stop, he didn't care.

"The chamber was completely destroyed, we thought you might've been dead—buried under the rubble and glass. We looked everywhere but we couldn't find you, but we did find _someone._ "

Tobias looked around the hospital wing, and he felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. He didn't see Professor Quirrell anywhere. He looked back at his five friends, who were all still staring at him with that look that they knew something he didn't.

"Where's Professor Quirrell?" he asked slowly. Though he had a feeling in his gut that he knew the answer.

Hermione bit her lip. She shook her head, and Tobias could see the tears forming in her eyes. Draco took her hand while Theodore rubbed her back. Tobias closed his eyes, trying to remember what happened last night. Quirrell was alive—they were screaming at each other. His leg was broken, a rock had fallen on it—but he couldn't have. _No. He couldn't have._ But Tobias didn't remember, he was so angry.

"Where's Professor Quirrell?!" He asked again, this time louder than the first. He couldn't have—he was too young. His magic wasn't that powerful—it wasn't that powerful to _kill_ someone. He opened his eyes, and once again they were burning with tears, his blood boiling with anger.

"He's dead, Tobias." Draco said softly. "We found him dead in the chamber."

Tobias shook his head. "No. No. No. No. No."

"Tobias, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, regaining her voice once more.

Tobias put his head in his hands. His hands soon traveled to his hair and as soon as he felt the soft strands flow through his fingers, he wanted to pull them out. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak. He had killed Quirrell, in his anger. He began breathing heavily, each breath coming out as a wheeze.

"Theodore go get Madam Pomfrey!" He heard Hermione scream.

"No!" Draco snapped.

The blonde Slytherin rushed over to him, trying to remove Tobias's hands from his head, but it was no use. It didn't make sense. He had never meant to kill him. He didn't even know any killing curses—unless he did it unknowingly. He shook his head, finally stopping to face Draco. His green eyes met his cousin's gray ones and he couldn't help the tears that began to fall down his face.

"I killed him, Draco." He whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

Tobias gripped the sheets tighter, closing his eyes to prevent himself from seeing the look on their faces. "It was me, who destroyed the chamber. I'm the reason Quirrell is dead."

Tobias opened his eyes and noticed that everyone had gone pale. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Quirrell wanted me to be in the chamber that night. That's why he gave us the project—he knew we would do enough research to the point we would have to enter the third- floor corridor."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"He—he—he thought that I was some boy who died years ago, that my grandfather kidnapped and raised as his own. But it was a lie, he was only trying to turn me against my grandfather."

Neville shifted in his seat. "How do you know?"

Tobias looked to Neville and then looked back to Hermione. "He had a fake Philosopher's Stone made. He was going to give the real one back to Dumbledore, and give my grandfather the fake one."

No one said anything.

"I was so angry, I didn't—I—I didn't realize I was causing the chamber to fall apart. And then the rocks fell on his leg, but he was _alive._ And then nothing—I don't remember anything after that. I _killed_ him and I don't even remember."

"I'm sure it was an accident, mate." Ron said softly. "You weren't trying to kill him. It was an accident."

"Plus, nobody knows it was you." Theodore added in. "Nobody knows you were down there."

"But _I know,_ Theodore." Tobias said through gritted teeth. "I'm the reason a professor is dead."

Draco shook his head. "It was an _accident,_ Tobias. An accident, that's all it was. And if it makes you feel better, we don't blame you." He looked to the others. "Right?"

"Right." Neville nodded.

Ron nodded as well, giving Tobias a small smile.

Hermione smiled as well. "Right."

Theodore smirked. "We're with you till the end, buddy."

Draco turned back to look at his best friend. "We aren't going anywhere."

Tobias felt the tears forming in his eyes. "I'm a murderer, Draco."

"No, you're not. You didn't know—you didn't mean it."

Tobias looked into his best friend's eyes. He could see that Draco really meant what he was saying, and not just saying it to make him feel better.

"Sometimes bad things just happen to good people."

* * *

Dumbledore returned to his office after his meeting with the Order. It was sunny outside, and he was pleased to see his students enjoying their last day of school—smiling and laughing with their friends. As if nobody died the night before, or that a first year destroyed an underground chamber. He smiled lightly at the sight below him. But it pained him in his heart to know that these carefree days were about to come to an end. Tobias was growing older and Voldemort was now back to his full health. Though it would be a long time before Tobias would rise as the heir of Dark Lord, it all seemed to be happening so fast. Their first year was already over.

The old professor turned around swiftly as his door opened. He nodded as Professor McGonagall walked in, a guest walking in behind her. A man with golden silk robes and neatly combed blonde hair walked in the room. He bowed to McGonagall, Dumbledore assumed an attempt to make her blush, but the witch only rolled his eyes. He flashed a pearly white smile at the headmaster, walking quickly to shake his hand and give him what appeared to be an autographed portrait.

"Gilderoy Lockhart." He said proudly. "The Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honourary Member of the Dark Forces League, and five- time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." He flashed another toothy smile, and Dumbledore saw Minerva roll her eyes once again.

Dumbledore smiled. "Please sit, Mister Lockhart—"

Lockhart raised a hand at the headmaster. "Albus, please. Call me Gilderoy."

Dumbledore nodded. " _Gilderoy._ We have much to discuss."

The headmaster led them to his desk, where McGonagall and Lockhart sat down in the two chairs in front of him. Dumbledore pulled out a very thick folder, and Lockhart flashed another smile as he realized this was the portfolio he had submitted to the headmaster. Dumbledore opened the folder, adjusting his glasses as he read through it.

"You have a lot of experience with dark magic and creatures, Mister Lockhart. Are you sure your services wouldn't be appreciated more in the Ministry of Magic, as an Auror?"

Lockhart laughed heartily, waving a dismissing hand at Dumbledore. "The Ministry's no place for a celebrity—"

"—neither is a school." McGonagall grumbled.

"You've seen my record, Headmaster. I have an abundant amount of knowledge that I wish to share. And why not share it at the place where it all started for me?"

"Is that not the reason you wrote seven books?" McGonagall sneered. Dumbledore could see that she was not very approving of his new choice for the DADA position. But he hadn't been expecting for Quirrell to die, and they needed a new Professor as soon as possible.

"Now, Now, Minerva." Lockhart said quickly, flashing another smile. The old professor had to hold in the laugh that was begging to let loose as the old witch's face turned a deep, angry red.

"Those books are for my fans—the real knowledge isn't in the books." He then put a finger to his temple. "It's up here. And _that's_ what I'll share with the children."

He turned back to the old professor, who was still reading over his portfolio.

"I give you my word, Albus," Lockhart raised his right hand as if he was being sworn into a position at the Ministry. "by the end of the year, your students will know how to defend themselves from the darkest of wizards and creatures. And if you don't believe me, then you obviously haven't read my book— _Voyages with Vampires._ "

Dumbledore closed the portfolio. "I think I will take your word for it, _Professor_ Lockhart."

Lockhart's face dropped, as if he wasn't expecting the words to come out of Dumbledore's mouth. "I've got the job?"

"Were you expecting a different reaction?" Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanor.

Lockhart cleared his throat, standing up straight and puffing his chest out, reeking of the star- stricken aura that had surrounded him before. "No, of course not. All my accomplishments—it would have been foolish not to hire me."

McGonagall scowled but Dumbledore ignored her. "Very well, just be sure to turn in your textbook list before August. That's when we send out upcoming term letters."

Lockhart dug in his robes, and quickly pulled out a fair sized piece of parchment. "I think this will cover it. My full collection—the students will love it."

Dumbledore looked down, baffled by the names of the books written on the parchment. But who was he to judge? He had never read one of the books. "Well then, I believe that's it." He set the parchment down, holding out his hand to say goodbye to the new Professor. "It's been a pleasure. See you in September."

"No, No, Albus, the pleasure is mine." Lockhart said with a bow. "Goodbye Minerva, and I will see you all soon. I will be sending a few of my house elves to decorate my office for me. I have some new portraits from Romania that haven't had the justice of hanging on such walls as these."

Lockhart then turned and left out of the office. Dumbledore was about to sit back down in his seat when Professor McGonagall rounded on him.

"Really, Dumbledore?" She snapped. "Gilderoy _Lockhart_! That was the best you could do?"

"He was the only one who wanted the job, Minerva." The old professor said tiredly. "The position is cursed—you know that, I know that. But nevertheless, the students need a _teacher._ "

"But him?! He's self- centered, incompetent—I don't even believe he did half of that stuff in that portfolio."

"Don't be so quick to judge. The new term hasn't even started yet—I think you should relax. A lot has happened this semester. I understand the need to be sure about who we are allowing into the school. But Lockhart is harmless. And if anything we need something less serious wandering about these halls."

"You're still stuck on the fact that Voldemort has something planned?" McGonagall's voice was now soft.

Dumbledore's facial expression didn't falter. "I believe that this year is only the beginning of what is to come."

* * *

"You called me professor?"

Tobias stepped inside Professor Snape's office. There was a note on his bed saying that he was needed in the potion master's office immediately. He dreaded the walk through the dungeons—what could Snape possibly want to talk to him about? Tobias stopped in the middle of the corridor. What if he knew? He could feel his blood pumping faster through his veins. But he kept walking, hoping for the best.

Snape was sitting at his desk when he arrived—waiting for him apparently. Tobias walked in shyly, his legs shaking with every step.

"Sit down." Snape said, no sign of emotion in his voice.

Tobias sat, stuffing his hands in his pocket to hide his trembling hands. He looked up and almost died when he noticed Snape had been watching him the whole time. His black eyes were neither cold or warm—but as if he was staring through Tobias. They showed no emotion—he looked as if he was dead inside.

"Am—am—I in trouble?"

Snape sighed. "No, you are not. But we have to talk."

"Talk?" Tobias said, not a hint of nervousness in his voice anymore. But more intrigued and confused, as he usually was.

"Yes, Mister LeStrange," Snape confirmed. "Talk. About last night."

Tobias's hands suddenly stopped shaking and he could feel the world spinning. Snape _knew_. _Don't assume, don't assume._

As Snape stared at Tobias, he could tell that the boy was nervous. There was no doubt that he realized he had just killed a man. No doubt from Malfoy and the rest—who he really should've followed to their common rooms. He was so caught up in his grief, he just let them go—his only instructions being to stay under the invisibility cloak and going straight to their common rooms. The next morning he cursed himself, having remembered the group he was talking to.

"First, how are you feeling?"

"Fine." Tobias lied, and Snape could see right through him. He did the same thing Lily did when she lied—his voice rising higher, and not being able to look Snape directly in the eye, though he tried very hard.

"You can talk to me, Tobias." Snape said, more caring this time. "What you say stays in this room."

"Meaning nobody else will know?"

Snape nodded. He watched as Tobias fumbled with his robes—there was indeed something he needed to say, but Snape had to be patient. He needed to know what he knew—and he needed him to trust him.

"I killed him." Tobias said in a whisper.

"Who?" Snape asked, though he felt a sharp stab into his chest. _Patience._

Tobias closed his eyes. It was tearing him apart. _Good, he feels something. Thank Merlin, he feels something._

"Quirrell." And Snape could hear his voice cracking. "I didn't mean it, professor. I was angry—I didn't know."

 _I know._

"Why were you angry?"

Tobias opened his eyes, beginning to fumble with his robes again. "He told me…..things. Lies."

Snape put his hands together, intertwining his fingers together. "Lies about what?"

He watched as the boy balled his fist, the anger was returning. But it was obvious that Tobias was trying to control it. He squeezed his eyes shut, in an attempt to block out the tears glistening in his eyes.

"He told me that my parents aren't really my parents—that my grandfather killed them. He told me that my grandfather was a monster—that he didn't love me or care about me."

Snape listened carefully, his fingers fumbling around his wand. He knew what Quirrell had told him, but as he listened, he was trying to decide what to do. If Tobias believed that these claims were lies, there was no reason to wipe his memory. But what if he began to ask questions? Snape gripped the wand.

"He made a fake Philosopher's Stone as well. He was going to give it to my grandfather—I had the real one, but somebody took it."

Snape couldn't do it—he couldn't modify Tobias's memory. Quirrell had told him the truth, and erasing it would only lead to the destiny Lord Voldemort had set for him.

 _I can't let him keep the memory. But I can suppress it, and let it come back later. When it's time._

"A fake stone?" said Snape.

Tobias nodded. "It looked exactly like the real one."

 _How old is he now? Eleven. When would it be the right time? Fifteen?_

"My grandfather trusted him—and it just made me so angry that he wanted to kill him. And that he wanted me to turn against him, too."

 _He would be more mature by then, hopefully, and more understanding. Plus, it'll be a year before the initiation._

"I didn't mean it, Professor. I didn't even realize I was tearing down the chamber—I didn't know my magic was that _strong_."

Snape pulled out his wand. "You didn't mean it, Tobias. What happened is not your fault."

"But—But I destroyed the chamber." The boy spluttered. " _I_ killed Quirrell."

"It was an accident." Snape said softly. "You were angry, and your magic reacted to your emotions. Sometimes bad things just happen to good people."

"That's the same thing Draco said."

Snape nodded. "And Mister Malfoy is correct. What happened last night has happened to the best of us—it isn't unusual to lose control sometimes."

"Has it happened to you before, professor?" asked Tobias, his eyes wide with interest.

Snape went silent. His thoughts lost in the boy's question. He could see flashes of broken glass, flames- a house on fire. He slowly closed his eyes, trying to block those memories.

"Yes, it has."

When he opened his eyes, he saw the color return to the first year Slytherin's face. They sat there in silence, Tobias didn't have anything else to say. Snape fumbled with his wand some more, preparing himself.

Tobias stood up to leave. "Is that all professor? I promised Draco and the rest I would meet up with them so we could all get on the train together."

Snape returned his focus, lost in his preparation. "Yes, you may go."

He watched as Tobias walked out of the room, waiting for him to get to the door. He gripped his wand, slowly lifting it from his desk—allowing him enough room to cast the spell.

"Tobias."

"Professor."

Snape nodded. "You first."

Tobias shuffled his feet for a minute, before returning to look at the man in front of him. "Quirrell told me about the Quidditch game. And I just wanted to say- thank you."

Snape was about to cast the spell, but he found himself being unable to say it. The boy was thanking him. And here he was about to suppress his memory—about to hide the truth from him once more. But he had to. For him.

"Obliviate." Snape whispered, and he watched Tobias's eyes become unfocused and then returning to their normal state.

"No need to thank me, Mister LeStrange. Now run along, before you miss the train home."

* * *

"Her? Are—Are you _sure_ , My Lord?"

"You doubt me, Lucius?"

"Of course not! It's just— _her_. Why not choose Tobias or even Draco? They could do it flawlessly."

"No. Once we begin, they would be suspected first. She will not be—and that's what I need. Someone who no one will suspect."

"And why this? What does this diary have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything. Without it, our plans will go to waste. Can I trust that you will make sure it ends up in her hands?"

"Yes, my Lord, she will have it before the term begins."

"Excellent."

* * *

Tobias sat in the train compartment with his five friends. He, Ron and Theodore sat on one side, while Hermione, Draco, and Neville sat on the other. They hadn't spoken about last night anymore, and for that, Tobias was grateful. He was also grateful that Snape was able to understand his situation. The potion's master wasn't so bad after all. He understood that Tobias had never meant to kill Quirrell—he was just angry. It was an accident. And to be honest, Tobias couldn't even remember what Quirrell said that made him so angry.

"So, this year was _interesting_." Theodore said, breaking the silence.

Ron huffed. "I still can't believe Hufflepuff won the house cup."

"Better Hufflepuff than Gryffindor." Draco teased, receiving a thump from Hermione. " _Ouch._ I was kidding."

Tobias laughed.

"We should all write to each other this summer." Hermione said, but then frowned looking at Theodore, Draco, and Tobias. "I mean—if we can."

"Nonsense." Theodore said cheerfully. "Just replace your name with one of ours, nobody will ever know."

Draco and Tobias nodded in agreement. "And you better write to us every week too." Draco barked lightly.

Hermione laughed, but Tobias could see the small blush rising in her cheeks.

"Maybe, if you're nice." She said.

Draco raised a brow. "I'm always nice."

Ron snorted and Neville began snickering behind his robes. Draco snapped his head at the two.

"What are you two laughing at? I'm _nice_. Right Theodore?"

Theodore was pretending to clean out his ears. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Tobias. I'm a nice person. Right?"

Tobias laughed. "Sure, you're the nicest person I've ever met."

The blonde Slytherin smiled for a moment, and then frowned, catching on to Tobias's sarcasm. Everyone began to laugh at his late notice and Draco felt his cheeks go red.

"Piss off, Tobias."

 **Author's Note: And that my fellow readers was the Philosopher's Stone. I used that title because I thought it was cooler. All characters and the traditional plot line belong to JK Rowling, the changes and switches belong to yours truly. Thank you for all the follows, favorites and reviews!**

 **I will back shortly to begin the new chapter of our journey.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	17. COS1: Dinner Parties, and ect

Once I was seven years old

My momma told me

Go make yourself some friends

Or you'll be lonely

Once I was seven years old

7 Years x Lukas Graham

Chapter 17: Dinner Parties and Comic Books, House Elves and Flying Cars

 _Dear Tobias,_

 _How have you been? My summer has been well—I've actually been reading the whole holiday. Have you seen our book list for the new term? Gilderoy Lockart's full collection! I asked my parents to take me to Diagon Alley right away, and I'm now on the third book!_

 _I miss you guys. Can't wait to see you at Theodore's birthday party!_

 _Hermione_

* * *

 _Tobias,_

 _How's your summer? Mine's lousy. My sister Ginny won't stop blabbing about Hogwarts and Fred and George have taught her a few tricks of theirs. She even made up her own hex! Bat- Bogey hex she calls it. Had bats flying out of my ears for hours before mum found the right counter- curse. This year is going to be a nightmare._

 _Oh yeah. Did you get an invitation to Theo's party?_

 _Ron_

* * *

 _Dear Tobias,_

 _How are you? How's your summer? Mine has been fairly well. I haven't injured myself in the last two weeks, and my Gran was very proud of my marks last term—especially herbology. She even lets me help her in the garden now! Can you believe that? She says if I keep out of trouble for the next few weeks, she'll let me go to Theo's party. Let's hope I get there._

 _Neville L._

* * *

 _Oh Most Noble Heir,_

 _I don't even know why I'm writing to you. I just saw you today. But everybody's sending letters so I thought I would send my own._

 _But now I've realized I have nothing to say because I've told you everything today. But mother says hello, and she hopes to see you at my party._

 _But then again you don't really have an option, you're going to be there. Or I'll have Ron's sister do that bat-boogey thing on you._

 _Though I must warn you, I'm not entirely sure what it does. But hey, I don't think it'll kill you._

 _Yours Truly,_

 _Just Theo_

* * *

 _Prat,_

 _Piss Off._

 _D.M._

* * *

Tobias sat with his legs crossed on his bedroom floor. He sat before the huge snake in front of him, who was curled up on the carpet as well, its head resting on its scaled skin.

 _"Hel-Hell-Hello."_

 _"Hello, Tobias."_

 _"How is you?"_

The snake shook its head. _"How 'are' you?"_

"Right. _How are you?"_

" _Fine."_ The snake nodded.

Tom Riddle watched from the doorway. He was not particularly happy about returning to his muggle appearance, but his discomfort was silenced by Tobias's training and new trade. The dark wizard believed it was time that his heir learned parseltongue—a skill that would distinguish him from the rest—to show that he was truly to heir of the Dark Lord.

"Talking to Nagini again, are we Tobias?"

Tobias turned his head to see his grandfather standing in the doorway. He jumped a little as he felt Nagini slither passed him, slightly rubbing against his leg, and making her way towards her owner. She said something to Tom Riddle that Tobias didn't fully understand, but he heard her hiss the words "well" and "more practice." Tobias's grandfather then hissed something back, and Nagini left the room—leaving the two alone.

"What did she say?" Tobias asked. He stood up, dusting off his trousers.

Tom Riddle walked inside the room. He waved his wand, summoning a black suit from his grandson's wardrobe. The suit floated slowly to Tobias's bed and landed softly on the bedspread.

"She said you're doing well, but you need more practice." Tobias nodded, a slight feeling of pride rising in his chest—seeing as he guessed a few of the words.

"But right now," His grandfather continued. "You need to be getting dressed for Mister Nott's dinner party tonight. All the heirs will be there, and with you being the top heir, you must look your best, Tobias."

Tobias rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I know, Grandfather."

Tom Riddle gave him a small smile. "Good. Now hurry and get dressed, the dinner will be starting soon. I need you downstairs to greet the guests."

Tobias's grandfather then left, closing the door behind him. Tobias turned to look at his suit and then turned to look back in the mirror. He had grown taller over the summer and his hair had grown some more, making it unruly and curly. He didn't like it—it would now take him at least thirty minutes for him to get his hair the way he liked it, now that he couldn't use magic outside of school.

That was the one thing he hated since being out of school. He and Draco couldn't have their early morning duels any more. And now Zabini had begun training with them, and the tan heir was relishing in the fact that the other three could not curse him in any way. But that didn't stop Draco from punching him in the nose a few days ago. Tobias and Theodore laughed so hard that they had to write lines for the rest of the evening.

Tobias was about to get dressed when an owl tapped on his window. He recognized it as Theodore's owl, Shazam. The dark- haired boy walked over quickly, opening the window to grab the letter from the owl's leg and reward the bird with a quick treat. He unfolded the letter, recognizing Hermione's hand-writing on the top of the parchment. He unfolded it, reading the letter quickly.

 _Tobias,_

 _Something strange just happened. I can't really explain it—but have you by chance heard of a house elf called Dobby?_

 _Hermione._

Tobias raised an eyebrow at the letter. _Dobby?_ That was the name of one of the Malfoy's house elves. What would he be doing at Hermione's? Unless Draco sent him over there—but why would Draco do that? Tobias shrugged, seeing as he didn't have time to ponder the matter too much.

He whistled for his owl, Jasper, and scribbled a response to the Gryffindor.

 _Yeah I have. We'll talk soon. Keep me updated._

He sent the bird away quickly, closing his window and preparing to get dressed. As he tied his tie and put on his vest and dinner jacket, he couldn't help but think about Hermione. What if she was in trouble? What if someone found out about her being muggle- born? _No._ He shook his head—he had settled that in the forest with Zabini last term.

But what had happened?

* * *

Pansy had tried on seven different dresses in the last three hours. Tonight was Theodore's Nott dinner party, and the "brides" of the heirs had to be there. At first, Pansy's mother wasn't sure they would be invited, seeing as Draco Malfoy did not have a betrothed yet. But that all changed when Astoria Greengrass came into the picture, and the two families arranged them right away. So now here Pansy was- trying to find a dress that was both presentable and "acceptable" for Tobias LeStrange. If it had been anybody else, Pansy wouldn't have dared to spend so much time trying to find something to wear, but because it was _him,_ she would stop at no ends to find the perfect dress for tonight's occasion.

She wore a long, gold sequin dress. The sleeves stopped at her wrist and the neck line stopped literally at the point where her head and neck met. She had to admit that this dress seemed a bit—out of her league, but the Parkinson's were never the ones for simple. Her black- hair had been pulled into a neat bun. She wore small diamond studs and a short silver necklace around her neck. She had just finished putting in the second earring when her mother stepped into the room.

"You look absolutely, beautiful." Rose Parkinson said. "Tobias will love it." She walked over quickly, her high heels clicking with each step, and conjured a small make- up kit.

Pansy then sat down and waited for her mother to begin on her make up.

"Mother."

"Hold on, love. Close your eyes."

Pansy closed them. "Mother, what if Tobias doesn't like me?"

Rose Parkinson did a little laugh. "And why wouldn't he? Keep your eyes closed, dear. You'll ruin your make- up."

"I mean," Pansy sighed. "It just seems like he only likes me as a friend. I can't marry my _friend._ "

Her mother laughed again. "Some boys just need a little time to see what's in front of them. That's why you must uphold yourself as the perfect pureblood girl you are. You must make him notice you."

Pansy scrunched her face up. "How do I do that?"

"Like this. Open your eyes."

Pansy's mother then turned her around, and Pansy saw her reflection in the mirror. She looked, well, beautiful. Her make- up blended perfectly with her skin—she was literally glowing. But even as this was so, she didn't feel like herself. She didn't want Tobias to like her if it meant dressing up in fancy dresses and putting on make- up every day. She wanted him to like her for what she was underneath all of that. But she wouldn't say it—her parents were counting on her to win the heart of the heir of the Dark Lord. To bring honor to their family name.

So she smiled at herself in the mirror, trying to accept the person that everyone needed her to be, and trying to hide the person that she wanted everyone to see.

* * *

"Dobby. Dobby! _Stop!_ "

Hermione was literally about to pull her hair out. How did this even happen? One minute she was reading _Holiday with Hags_ , the next minute she was being visited by a house elf dressed in a dirty and ripped pillowcase.

"Hermione Granger must promise that she won't return to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" The big- eyed creature squeaked. He was holding one of Hermione's reading lamps in his hands, which he had been previously thumping his head with. If Hermione could use magic this would've been so much easier.

"No!" She yelled. "My friends are at Hogwarts! A year ago I just found out I was a witch, I'm not going to just _leave._ "

Dobby plopped down on her bed. "But it won't be safe for Hermione Granger. If Hermione Granger returns back to school, she will be in terrible danger."

"What kind of danger?"

Dobby eyes grew wider. He squeaked and began to sob once more, banging the reading lamp against his forehead. Hermione groaned to herself, balling her fist as she felt her frustration boiling to its peak.

" _DOBBY STOP!"_

Her voice shook the room, and the house elf immeadiately stopped what he was doing. Hermione face palmed herself, realizing she had yelled too loud. She quickly came back to the world as she heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. Her parents were coming—and she had a house elf in her _room_.

"Get under the bed now." She said through gritted teeth, but Dobby could barely respond to the action as Hermione grabbed him by his pillowcased shirt and stuffed him under her bed herself. She put a finger to her lips—silencing him from making any movements, but her eyes dared him to make a sound.

The door opened and Wendell and Monica Granger burst into the room. Their eyes roaming for the cause of their daughter's alarming outburst. But they only found Hermione sitting on her bed, her nose stuck in a book as always. Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow in confusion, looking to his wife who had the same look on her face.

"Hermione." Her mother said.

Hermione gracefully put down the book, looking at her two parents as if nothing happened—as if she had not screeched like she was being murdered a few minutes ago.

"Yes, mum?"

Her mother looked around the room again, taking another step just in case she missed a sign of destruction she hadn't seen earlier.

"Me and your father heard—we thought you—were you screaming earlier?"

Hermione smiled innocently at her two parents. "Oh yes that was me, I was just reading this book." She lifted her book up to show them. "It has a character named Dobby that is extremely irritating, and I got lost in the scene. I'm sorry I scared you two."

She watched as her parents took in her story. They never really understood the wizarding world, which gave Hermione an advantage. Her father then shrugged.

"It's alright. Just try to keep it down next time, sweetheart. You almost gave us a heart-attack."

Hermione nodded, and her parents left out of the room, closing the door behind them. She watched the door for a few moments, listening to the sound of their footsteps going back down the steps. Once she no longer heard them, she hopped off her bed and pulled Dobby out from below.

"Now let's start this again." She said sternly, putting her hands on her hips. The house elf cowered before her. "Why can't I go back to Hogwarts?"

Dobby began fumbling with his pillow-case. "Like Dobby said before, if Hermione Granger returns back to Hogwarts, she and the other muggle-borns will be in great danger."

"But what _kind_ of danger, Dobby?"

Dobby's bottom lip began to quiver once more, and his head shook frantically. He took the reading lamp once more and banged it against his head. "Bad, Dobby. Bad, bad, Dobby."

Hermione groaned again and snatched the lamp from him. "Why do you keep hitting yourself?"

"Dobby must punish himself, missus. Dobby must not be here, Dobby was ordered not to tell of his master's plan—if Dobby's master found out—"Dobby whimpered again, falling on all fours and banging his head against the floor.

"Hermione?" She heard her father call.

Hermione quickly scooped up Dobby and threw him back on her bed. She quickly ran to the door, opening it to respond to her father.

"I just dropped a few books! Everything's fine."

She closed the door and turned back to Dobby, who was now hitting himself in the face with her pillow. Hermione walked over and snatched the pillow from him.

"Dobby why are you here?"

"Dobby has told you." The elf responded.

"Yes." Hermione closed her eyes, trying to hide her frustration. "But why _here_? Why me?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby hasn't come to visit just you, Dobby has come to visit all the muggle- borns of Hogwarts. To warn them."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, setting the pillow and the reading lamp aside. "About what?"

Dobby eyes went wide again, and Hermione acted quickly. She grabbed Dobby's hands tightly, preventing him from hurting himself again.

"There is a plot." Dobby whispered. "A plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dobby has heard of it from his master."

"Who is your master, Dobby?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby cannot say. Dobby has sworn to never reveal his master's identity to anyone. Especially muggle- borns."

The bushy- haired girl frowned. "Won't your master be upset if he found out you were here?"

Dobby nodded. "Oh yes, Dobby plans to punish himself when he returns. Dobby will have to slam his ears in the door again."

Hermione winced at the thought of Dobby's punishment. She could feel her ears burning a furious red at the thought of them being slammed in a door.

"Why don't you just leave, Dobby?"

"Dobby can't leave." The house elf said quickly, his eyes welling up with tears. "Dobby can never leave until his master sets him free. And Dobby's master won't set him free until he dies."

Hermione stared at the house elf sitting in front of her. She felt sorry for the poor creature, but on the other hand, she was furious. She had read about the poor treatment of house elves. But never had she met one before. She hadn't even met Dobby's master and she hated him already. She had to help him, Dobby didn't deserve the treatment he was receiving.

She let go of Dobby's arms and ran to her desk. She snatched a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbled a note to Tobias. She opened her window and whistled for Theodore's owl, who was perched on a tree outside. She tied the note to its leg and told the bird its destination. She then closed the window and turned back to continue her conversation with Dobby. She needed to know who was planning to cause these terrible things at the wizarding school. She needed to know why this person was targeting all the muggle- borns.

But when she turned back to her bed, the small and feeble house elf was gone. Hermione sighed, but her disappointment was interrupted as Shazam began tapping on her window, a letter attached to his leg.

Hermione rushed over and opened the window, taking the note from the owl's leg. She was eager to see Tobias's response, hoping that he would have some answers for her strange encounter with the house elf.

But as she read, her hopes drifted away. She was pleased to know that Tobias had heard of Dobby, but his message was short. Only saying they would talk later—meaning at Theodore's party. Hermione huffed and plopped down on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, the answered questions swirling through her head.

* * *

Tobias internally groaned as another guest arrived at LeStrange Manor. How many people did his Grandfather invite? Theodore was turning _twelve_ , not eighteen. He knew in his gut that it would be worst for his birthday, but luckily he would only have to do this twice a year. Seeing as they would still be in school for Zabini's and Draco's birthday.

Tobias smiled eagerly as he saw the Notts arrive on the front lawn of the manor. He was glad to see that Madam Nott was granted a few days out of St. Mungos to attend Theodore's dinner. And he could see Theodore was happy as well. He held her hand joyfully as they walked down the brightly lit path.

Tobias's happiness soon withered away as he met eyes with Terrell Nott. Tobias could feel his dark blue eyes examining his very being. He was a tall man with a muscular build of a Quidditch player. He walked like a true pureblood aristocrat, not a smile on his face, but not a frown either. His face was content—intimidating. His facial expression never faltered as he walked closer.

"Tobias," He said politely.

"Sir Nott." Tobias nodded. Tobias then walked over to Theodore's mother, who greeted him with a bone crushing hug.

"Leon." She said sweetly. And Tobias blushed at the sound of his middle name.

"Madam Nott." He smiled as she released him from his hug.

"You've grown since the last time I've seen you." She said with a smile. "Though it has been a while since we've seen each other. How are you?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

Madam Nott's smile grew tense, but it never fell. "Well, my sickness hasn't gotten worse. Thank Merlin for that."

Tobias looked at Theodore, and could tell that this was an uncomfortable topic that his mother was speaking on.

"Alanna, let's get you inside." Terrell Nott spoke up. "You shouldn't be outside like this." Tobias watched as Sir Nott lightly grabbed his wife's arm to lead her inside. Alanna smiled in gratitude, but Tobias could see her tensing against his touch, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He could also see Theodore tensing up as well, his eyes never leaving the contact between his mother and father.

* * *

Ron calmly shut the door to his room before going on a rampage. His face was red as ever and he could literally feel the steam coming out of his ears. He couldn't believe that Percy was being so much of a prat that he wouldn't take him to Theodore's house tonight. He, Theodore, Draco, Tobias, and Neville were supposed to be having a sleepover tonight before the day of the party. Everyone had gotten permission to go, even _Neville._

It wasn't like Percy had to stay, he just had to floo him there. But when Ron tried to argue that case, Percy shut him down, saying that using the floo network, especially to a destination such as Nott Manor, isn't as easy as he thought it was. It was utter crap.

Ron flopped on his bed. He would be the only one not there—except Hermione, but then again she wasn't even invited to the sleepover, seeing that she was a girl. He groaned loudly—he almost had the urge to ask Ginny to use her bat- bogey hex on Percy. Now that he was officially a Hogwarts student, he wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school.

There was a knock on his door, and Ron quickly sat up.

"Just a minute." He called out, rushing around the room to put everything back in place, just in case it was his mother who was at the door.

Once he was finished, he pushed his hair back, making sure that it still wasn't frazzled as it was before. He opened his bedroom door, sighing in relief as he saw his two twin brothers, Fred and George, standing in the doorway.

"Oh, it's just you guys."

Fred and George looked at each other.

"Just us, eh?" George said sarcastically.

"I don't think that's any way to talk to the two who are taking you to your friend's party." Fred said.

Ron raised an eyebrow. What were they on about? Percy was supposed to be taking him to the party. Percy was the only one in the house that was of age and could use magic outside of school.

"You two? But we aren't allowed to use magic out of school."

The twins stepped inside Ron's room, closing the door behind them. They obviously had a plan that their parents would literally kill them for if they overheard.

George smirked. "Which is why we won't be using magic."

Fred nodded, lifting up a pair of keys. "We'll be using these."

" _Keys?_ " Ron frowned, his hopes dropping once more. "What the bloody hell are we going to do with those?"

Fred and George looked at each other once more, their smirks equal and a mischivious look on their faces. They turned back to their little brother.

"You know that shed that dad never lets us go in?"

Ron nodded.

"Well, we went inside." Said George.

"And we figured out what he hides in there." Fred nodded.

"It's muggle stuff."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Muggle stuff?"

The twins nodded. "Like rubber ducks and lamps and stuff."

Ron crossed his arms. "But how is that—"

Ron was stopped by George's hand.

"We also found a car."

"A _flying car_." Fred added in.

"Dad's obviously been working on it. It has an invisibility boost and everything, so muggles can't see us."

"So we figured—"

"-that we would take it—"

"—and use it to take you to the sleepover."

Ron didn't even feel his mouth dropping open. All of this was happening so fast. He was going to Theodore's sleepover. In a flying car. With his two twin brothers. In a flying car. That his father had hidden in the forbidden shed. But none of that mattered—he was going to Theodore's sleepover.

"But—but what about Percy?"

"We'll handle Percy." George answered.

"Just meet us outside around twelve." Said Fred. And with that, the two left, closing the door behind them.

Ron jumped with joy. He quickly pulled out a small traveling trunk from under his bed and began packing his things. He didn't realize how much noise he was making until he heard his mother yelling from the kitchen.

"RONALD!"

Ron's face went pink as he heard his mother's voice.

"Sorry, mum!" But he continued to smile eagerly as he packed his things.

* * *

The dining room had been decorated beautifully for Theodore's dinner party. The heirs sat at the end of the table, their brides by their sides. Tobias was a bit relieved when he found out Pansy was his, but to be honest, he only saw her as friend. But he did have to admit, she looked awfully beautiful in the dress she had on. But he couldn't shake that the fact that it was a little much—he liked her better in her Slytherin robes at Hogwarts.

Draco and Theodore's betrotheds were the Greengrass sisters, and Tobias and Pansy had to hide their laughter, seeing as the boys detested them both. Daphne wouldn't stop staring at Theodore and Astoria wouldn't shut about how shiny and soft Draco's hair was. Tobias also noticed that Zabini's betrothed, Tracey Davis, hated the fact that she had been arranged to marry Blaise. The dark- haired boy could tell that Tracey was tuning out everything Zabini was saying. But the tan Slytherin was ignorant to this fact, going on and on about his trip to India with his mother and father.

There was a clink of glasses, and dinner was served. Meats of all kind—steak, chicken, lamb, ham, and turkey—filled the table first. Then dishes of casserole and vegetables were brought out, and lastly bread rolls and beverages. The adults were treated to an Indian mead the Zabinis had brought from India while the children were treated to grape juice.

Tobias felt his mouth water as he watched the food. His could feel his patience growing thin, but knew no one was to touch the food until his grandfather made the toast. Draco and Theodore were also becoming restless- Draco already had his napkin in his lap and Theodore was slipping small pieces of bread into his mouth.

All eyes turned to the end of the table as Tom Riddle stood up. He looked more refined that he did last year. There were no bags under his eyes, no signs of stress or strain on his face. He gracefully held his wine glass in his hand, motioning for everyone else to do the same.

"I would like to make a toast." He began. "To the Prince of Nott, Theodore Dion. Another year older, another year wiser, they say. I give you my blessing, Theodore. That you will continue your journey as a true and noble pureblood heir. For magic is might."

Everyone then stood up and raised their glasses.

"For magic is might." They chanted together.

"To Theodore."

The crowd then all looked to Theodore, smiles and nods of approval being sent his way. Tobias and Draco smiled widely at their best friend, who was relishing in the abundant amount of praise from the guests—especially from the Dark Lord himself.

"To Theodore." The guests said together.

The feast began. The adults began their usual political conversations, casting a slight silencing charm at the divide of the table, preventing the children from eavesdropping.

"So how does it feel to be twelve?" Tobias asked.

Theodore sat back, putting his hands behind his head. "Ecstatic, my friend. Ecstatic."

"What you get?" Draco said through a mouthful of chicken.

Theodore dropped his hands. "You know the usual. Another family heirloom, but mother got me something really cool."

"What is it?" Tobias asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Later." Said Theodore, shooting an eye at Blaise, who was obviously pretending not to listen to their conversation.

"I got you a present, Theodore." Daphne Greengrass said sweetly.

Draco sniggered while Tobias smirked evilly at the brown- haired boy.

"This should be good," Pansy whispered to Tobias. Tobias nodded, still watching the scene unfold in front of them.

Daphne pulled out a small green box from her small purse and sat it on the table.

Theodore furrowed his brow. "You got me a box?"

"No silly." Daphne giggled. She pushed the box closer to Theodore with her finger. "Open it."

Theodore looked at Daphne. The way she was smiling made him very uncomfortable—he wasn't sure if he wanted to open the box or not. But he wouldn't pass up a present. So he took a deep breath and opened the box, but quickly regretted that he had as he stared at the piece of jewelry flashing before him.

"Oh Daphne," He said grimly. "You shouldn't have. You _really_ shouldn't have."

"What is it?" Tracey Davis asked.

"They're matching bracelets." The oldest Greengrass sister squealed. "It says 'T&D', for Theodore and Daphne."

Draco burst into a fit a laughter while Astoria awed at her sister's gift. Tobias actually felt sorry for Theodore, and Pansy felt sorry for Daphne, who clearly didn't get the picture that Theodore truly did not fancy her.

"I think it's beautiful, Daphne." Zabini said politely. He then shot a smirk at the heir. "Do you like it, Theodore?"

Theodore clenched his jaw, but he knew Daphne was staring at him intently, awaiting his answer.

"I love it." He said through a strained smile but soon regretted it as Daphne pulled him into a hug.

"I knew you would love it." She said. "We can wear them every day at school. Wouldn't that be great?"

"I think it would be lovely Daphne." Draco teased. "Don't you think so, Theo?"

Theodore shot a look at Draco which Tobias knew as "this means war." Draco began laughing again, not caring about his friend's silent threat.

"Does it have to be every day? Theodore asked his betrothed.

Daphne giggled again. "Yes, silly. How else will everyone know you're betrothed to me?"

"Yes Theodore," Tobias chimed in this time, enjoying the sight of Theodore being under pressure. "How will everyone know?"

"Oh, I hate you all."

* * *

Tom Riddle sat at the end of the table, listening to his followers' debate about his new action towards the wizarding community. He stayed silent, taking in everyone's opinions and suggestions. Everyone as a whole seemed to agree with his plan, but there were a few who thought the Dark Lord was being "unreasonable."

"The chamber hasn't been opened in years!" said a Death Eater named Fabian Yaxley. "How do you know the beast is still down there?"

Marcus Goyle shook his head. "You have forgotten, Yaxley. Basilisks can live for thousands of years, it is highly doubtful that the creature is dead."

Yaxley grunted. "I'm surprised that you are aware of this knowledge, Goyle. Seeing as your son is a complete idiot."

"Watch your words, Yaxley." Goyle said politely. "That may just be the last thing you say."

"Is that a threat?"

"Can you two stop?" Darian Zabini chuckled. "You're missing the entire point. We are finally purging Hogwarts of those disgusting mudbloods."

"But they've shown no threat against us." Terrance Crabbe said. "My Lord, you said it yourself that we wouldn't attack children without reason."

"There aren't _children_." Thuban Parkinson spat. "These are mutts. Degenerates. All of them are the same. Children or not—they do not belong in _our_ schools. With our children."

"Parkinson is right." Lucius Malfoy spoke. "If we let this continue, soon pureblood children will be the minority. Half- Bloods and muggle- borns will take over the popular."

All the men nodded and agreement.

"When will the purge begin?" Terrell Nott asked.

They all looked to the Dark Lord, who had been watching them all patiently.

"The purge will start once the new term at Hogwarts begins." He said casually. "No one should know of our plans. The order is up and running again, and no doubt they will have spies lurking around our once safe places."

"Who will lead the purge, my Lord?" asked Zabini.

"Lucius and I have already handled that. The leader's identity will remain disclosed for obvious reasons. And at the end, it won't even matter anymore."

* * *

That night, the three heirs met up at Theodore's. Theodore's father had gone to Norway due to some business for Tobias's grandfather and his mother was to return to St. Mungo's right after his dinner party. They all sat in the parlor, awaiting for Neville and Ron to arrive. As they waited, Theodore showed his two friends the really cool thing his mother had given him for his birthday.

He brought down a small box of what looked like books. Tobias looked closely at them, and quickly realized that they weren't books, but more like colored pamphlets. They were all very colorful and each one had a different character on it. Tobias preferably liked the one with the character "Batman" on it.

Draco took one out. "Tales of the Teen Titans? Who's the Teen Titans?"

"A better question would be: What are these?" asked Tobias as he opened one of the Batman books.

"These, my friends, are called _comic books_. They're like books, but more colorful." He pointed to Tobias's comic book. "That's Batman, also known as Bruce Wayne, one of the richest people in the world. He's kind of like you Tobias."

Draco opened up his. "And these guys?"

Theodore smiled. "Ah yes, the prodigal sidekicks of the Justice League. Nightwing, Starfire, Raven, Cyborg, Kid Flash, Changeling, and Wonder Girl."

Tobias squinted at the pictures. He noticed that Batman did not use a wand to fight off his enemies. He used his fists and the many gadgets in what was known as his utility belt. Tobias soon realized that Batman was a muggle.

"Why don't these characters use magic?" Draco said, flipping through the pages.

"Well you see," Theodore said, "They're muggles."

"And a wizard wrote this?"

Theodore shook his head. "No, these are muggle comics. That's why the pictures don't move."

Draco's mouth dropped opened. "And your mother bought you these?"

Tobias sat up. "What if your father found out?"

"He _won't_." Theodore assured them both. "I have a hiding place."

Draco and Tobias looked at each other, both trying to decide if they trusted Theodore with this hiding place. Their attention was averted as the chimney sparked up with green flames and a clumsy Neville Longbottom fell through. He was wearing his blue and white stripped pajama set and he had a small black bag in his hand.

"Longbottom you made it!" Theodore said with glee, dragging the boy to the center of the parlor.

"Hey guys." Neville said.

"What's up, Longbottom." Said Draco.

"Hey Neville." Replied Tobias.

Neville sat down, looking at the mess of comic books on the ground. He picked one up, staring at the front cover intently. It was an image of a man in blue tights and a red cape with a big "S" written across his chest. He was lifting what looked to be an oversized wagon with doors. He had stopped it from falling on top of two little girls.

"Ah Superman." Theodore said over his shoulder. "Not particularly my favorite, but he's a really great guy. Strongest man on Earth. Nobody can stop him."

"Not even a wizard?" Draco asked wide – eyed.

Theodore crossed his arms. "He would give Dumbledore a run for his money."

"Wow." Neville whispered.

Tobias could barely hear the conversation as he flipped through the Batman comic in his hand. He was intrigued by the man's intellect, how he was able to put pieces together and solve mysteries. He had no powers and he was a muggle, yet he was able to find a solution to every problem being thrown at him. Tobias also noticed that Bruce Wayne didn't have any family, only his butler. This made Tobias think of his parents, and how the only family he had was his grandfather. As Tobias read, he found more and more similarities between him and the cape crusader. He read each page slowly, taking in the drawings, the colors, and the concept of the story. He just beginning to get to the good part when a revving noise overpowered his ability to concentrate.

"Do you all hear that?" Neville asked nervously.

Theodore walked to his window. "Is it just me, or is the moon shining particularly bright tonight?"

Draco looked up and noticed that the bright light was coming closer and closer to Nott Manor. "I don't think that's the moon Theo."

"Get back!" Tobias shouted, and the four boys backed as far away as possible from the window. The light came closer and closer, making its way through the window and shining at the four boys. Tobias had to squint his eyes against the light, his heart pounding.

The lights quickly shut off and the four boys reopened their eyes. They came in contact with an oversized blue wagon floating outside Theo's window. Nobody moved as the window of the wagon slowly rolled itself down. Neville shut one eye, and Tobias was rooted to the spot. They were in trouble and they couldn't use magic. Theodore's father was too far away and nobody had the guts to move. So they stood there, watching as the window continued to roll down.

As the window rolled down, Tobias saw a speck of red hair. His eyebrows furrowed as it came into view. He knew that red hair.

"Are you guys going to let me in or not?" A familiar voice said, and Tobias could hear Theodore sigh in relief.

The brown- haired boy ran over and opened the window, and now everyone could see that it was Ron who was sitting in the oversized wagon.

"Bloody hell, Ronald." Theodore chuckled. "We thought you were here to kill us."

"Really?" Ron responded curiously. "In one of these?"

"The devil comes in many shapes and forms, my friend." Theodore said. "Now come on. Let's get you inside."

Ron nodded, and tossed his bag through the window, almost knocking Neville over as he tried to catch it. Tobias, Draco, and Theodore then helped Ron crawl through the car window and into the window of the parlor. Ron dusted himself off and waved goodbye to Fred and George before they flew away. The five boys watched as the car flew into the night sky, and then suddenly disappearing.

"Invisibility boost." Ron said. "Keeps the muggles from noticing."

"Wicked." Said the rest.

 **Author's Note: And we're back! First, chapter of The Chamber of Secrets. Thank you for all the follows and reviews—it keeps me going!**

 **The next chapter will be posted a little later than usual. I'm aiming for next Wednesday, but it may be sooner than that.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	18. COS2: Defending the Gryffindor

Cause I will take it on the chin

Eh, for you

So lay your cuts and bruises over my skin

I promise you won't feel a thing, no

Cause everything the world could throw

I'll stand in front I'll take the blow for you.

~ You Won't Ever Feel a Thing x The Script

Chapter 18: Defending the Gryffindor

"You did WHAT?!" Lupin seethed.

Snape stood a few feet away from the meeting table. Tonight was the last day of Lupin's cycle, and it was also the worst one. The man had scratches scarred into his face and his hair was frizzier than usual. Snape had expected Molly to overreact but he forgot he was dealing with one of the boy's godfathers. Dumbledore chose a wonderful time to call a meeting.

"I did what I had to do." Snape said bluntly. "To protect him."

" _Protect him?!_ " Lupin roared. "You obliviated him! You erased his memory, and Quirrell told him the _truth_!" He then snapped his head towards Dumbledore. "This is what I meant when I said you tend to leave out details!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "This happened after Quirrell's funeral session."

Lupin snapped his head back at Snape. He had that dangerous wolfish glint in his eyes and it looked as if his nails were clawing at the table.

"And I did not obliviate the boy. I modified his memory. Until he turns fifteen, he will have no recollection of what Quirrell told him last term."

Lupin laughed darkly. "And that makes everything okay?"

"Would you have rather the Dark Lord done it himself?" Snape snapped. Lupin then went quiet. Snape turned back to Dumbledore, who hadn't said anything since the meeting began.

"I did what I had to do. Voldemort would have killed the boy and I both had we tried to keep it from him. The memories will return a year before the initiation—we will be able to plan accordingly then. And hopefully, the boy will be on our side."

"Why are we still allowing him to become one of _them_?" Molly Weasley finally spoke up. Her voice was hoarse, but there was still concern in her tone. "We know the mark changes people. And he'll only be sixteen. That's too young."

Snape sighed. "That's what the Dark Lord wants. And Tobias has already agreed."

"Well of course he has agreed!" Molly snapped, regaining her voice. "He's only twelve! He thinks becoming a Death Eater is an honor! He doesn't know any better!"

"How do we even know he can _get_ the mark?" Mad- Eye said gruffly. "Based on what Snape's told us, Lily's love is protecting the boy from harm. What if it rejects the dark mark?"

"The mark is not based on the degree of magical power." Snape explained grimly. "It is based on want. If the boy truly wants the mark, he will get it. Despite Lily's magic."

"Then we make him not want it." Said Molly Weasley, looking to everyone as if it was the simple answer.

Snape rolled his eyes again. He truly hated the way Molly Weasley's knack for being a mother made her oblivious to everything else.

"And do you honestly think it'll be that easy?" He sneered.

Molly narrowed her eyes at the black- haired man. "Well it certainly would have been easier if you hadn't did what you've done."

"So you rather the boy die or worse?"

"No." Molly spluttered.

"There must be some other way." Kingsley said. "We can't let him become a Death Eater."

"It isn't our decision to make." Snape said bluntly.

Lupin shook his head. "Dumbledore, surely you have something to say about this?"

The old professor was still sitting in his seat, his back pressed against the chair. His hands were clasped together and his elbows rested on the arm rests of the chair. His half- moon spectacles rested gracefully on his nose. To his fellow Order members, he seemed calm. But inside he was distraught, battling with emotions and the weight that now—and always will—fall on his shoulders.

"Even if we show the boy the truth, he has to believe it for himself. What happened last term can easily happen again in the next three years."

"But professor he has to know." Lupin argued.

"And he _will_ , Remus." Dumbledore shot back. "You are blinded by your need to pay your debts to Lily and James. All of you are. We need the boy _alive._ "

"But to allow him to become a Death Eater, Dumbledore?" Arthur Weasley said skeptically. "If we let Voldemort brand him, we have failed."

Dumbledore smiled, shooting a look to Snape. "Will we fail, Arthur?"

Lupin scoffed. "In case you've forgotten Professor, _we_ aren't the reason Snape is here. He's here because of his own personal demons and guilt."

"Isn't that the same reason you came out of hiding?" Snape sneered. "Or is it common for a werewolf to come back to the world after his best friend dies?"

Lupin slammed his fist on the table, standing up to become eye level with Snape. "That's not what happened and you know it!" He growled.

"Enough." Dumbledore said tiredly. "The point is we need Harry _alive_. And if that means letting him become a Death Eater, then so be it. If we let him die, then we can say we have failed."

* * *

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THEOOOOO! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"

The six friends surrounded the dining table of Nott Manor. Theodore sat at the head of the table. Neville, Ron, and Tobias sat on his left and Hermione and Draco sat on his right. They all cheerfully sung happy birthday as Madam Nott brought in Theo's birthday cake.

It was a large, rectangular chocolate cake. It was covered in Slytherin green icing and it had 'Happy Birthday Theo' written in white icing. Theodore smiled widely as he took in the scene of his birthday. His best friends were here, his mother was here, and his father was _gone._ Turning twelve never felt so good.

"Make a wish, Theodore." Hermione said cheerfully.

Theodore closed his eyes, trying to think of the perfect thing to wish for his birthday. When he finally decided, he reopened his eyes and blew out the candles that were on his cake. His mother kissed him on the cheek before removing his candles.

"I'll be right back." She said. "Nobody touch the cake until I get back. That means _you_ , Dion."

Theodore's face flushed as he mother said his middle name. " _Mother._ It's Theo." He whispered embarrassedly.

"Oh right, right. I forgot." She teased. " _Theo._ " She then walked away, but not before winking at the others. They all knew that she was still going to call him by his middle name.

"Dion isn't that bad." Hermione said. "My mum calls me by my middle name sometimes."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "And you don't feel embarrassed?"

"Why would I?" Hermione shrugged. "It isn't embarrassing. It's Jean."

"So like Jean Grey?"

"Who?"

Theodore shook his head. "Nevermind. So what's everybody else's middle name?"

Draco smirked. "Lucius. Named after my father."

Neville went pink. "Mine is Aubrey."

Draco snorted, while Theodore made a face. "Isn't that a _girl_ name?"

"It's unisex, actually." Hermione said promptly.

"Meaning?" said Theodore, his face still frowning.

"Meaning that it can be used for a boy or a girl." Tobias cut in, and Hermione nodded in agreement.

Theodore nodded in understanding. "Is Theodore a unisex name?"

Hermione giggled. "No, Theo."

The brown- haired Slytherin sighed in relief. "Oh Thank Merlin." He then turned to Tobias. "So what about you?"

"Leon." Tobias said proudly.

The five then all looked to Ron, who hadn't said anything since the conversation about middle names began. The freckled- faced boy immediately went red as everyone stared at him. He cleared his throat, hoping to not sound as nervous as he looked.

"What?" he said defensively.

"You know what, Weasley." Said Draco. "What's your middle name?"

Ron looked to his five friends. Theodore was staring at him intensely, his head in his hands. They wouldn't stop until Ron told them his middle name. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Promise you won't laugh."

"If it's worse than Aubrey," Theodore said nonchalantly. "I can't promise you that."

"Me either." Draco agreed.

"Ignore them, Ron." Tobias said. "Just tell us."

Ron took a deep breath. "It's Billius." He tried to say it as low as he could.

Theodore cleaned out his ear. "I'm sorry. Say that again?"

"It's _Billius._ "

Draco frowned. "Your name is _Ronald Billius Weasley_?"

The red haired Gryffindor went red again. "Yeah."

The table was silent for a moment, and Ron almost felt relieved that none of them laughed at his name. But that relief soon went away once Draco and Theodore burst into a fit of laughter. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand to hide hers. And Neville was trying so hard to stop his he actually caught the hiccups. Tobias laughed softly, and Ron went red with anger.

"Oi! It's not funny."

Theodore snorted. "Oh, it's quite entertaining, Billius. Quite entertaining indeed."

"Piss off, Theo." Ron spat. "Anyway, shouldn't we be focusing on Hermione? She has something to tell us, doesn't she?"

Hermione went pale. "Ron I don't really think this is the time—"

"Of course it is!" Ron interrupted her.

Draco looked at Ron and then at Hermione. He didn't know why but his blood began to boil as he suspected the two were hiding something from the rest. Especially Hermione.

"Tell us what?" He said snapped.

Hermione huffed. "Draco, _later._ "

Theodore stopped laughing. "No, no. Billius has successfully diverted my interest. What do you have to tell us, Jean?"

Hermione snapped her head towards the brown- haired Slytherin. "We will _not_ get into the habit of calling each other by our middle names!"

Theo raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, Alright!" He then leaned over to Neville's ear. "I hate to see her when she turns into the Phoenix." Neville nodded, his eyes still on Hermione.

Hermione ignored Theodore's comment. "Last night I was visited…..by a house elf." She looked to her friends, hoping to get a reaction, but nothing came. Theodore looked confused, Tobias and Draco were looking as if she had more to say. Neville tried to look concerned but Hermione could tell he was confused as well. Ron only sat there—Hermione assumed he was relieved that he successfully changed the subject.

Hermione opened her mouth again but closed it as Madam Nott returned with Theo's birthday cake. She gave everyone a piece and then left the room again, saying she wanted to give Theo some alone time with his friends before the party was over.

"Did you all not hear what I said?" Hermione said irritably.

"We heard what you said, Hermione." Answered Theodore. "But what's the problem?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, we see house elves all the time."

"Pretty much." Tobias agreed.

Hermione sighed. She forgot she was talking to the Slytherin heirs, who have been having house elves care for them since they came out of the womb.

"But when have you heard of a house elf visiting a _muggle- born_?"

The five boys looked amongst each other, hoping that one of them had an answer to Hermione's question, but none of them did. Hermione rolled her eyes.

" _Exactly._ And I wasn't the only one Dobby visited."

Draco frowned. "Dobby?"

Hermione crossed her arms. "Oh, now you want to be concerned?"

Theodore sat up in his seat. "Dobby? That's your house elf isn't it, Draco?"

"Yeah it is."

"Your Dobby's _master_?" Hermione seethed, and Draco had to slide his chair back a bit as the bushy- haired witch glared at him. He shook his head frantically, hoping to ease her gaze.

"No! My father is." He said quickly.

"We're not allowed to actually _own_ house elves until we're fifteen." Tobias said. "Unless the current master orders the house elf to obey us."

"Why was Malfoy's house elf at your house, Hermione?" Theodore cut in, returning everyone back to the main concern.

Hermione removed her glare from Draco, who let out a low sigh as she turned back to face the rest of the boys.

"He said that there was a plot at Hogwarts—that someone is planning something against all the Muggle-borns."

"Who?" Draco said urgently. He felt his blood starting to boil again, scooting his chair closer to Hermione as if the perpetrator was standing in the room with them right now. He didn't realize how close he was sitting until Hermione scooted her chair a little bit away from him.

"He wouldn't say. He said his _master_ forbade him to speak of it." Draco felt a little bit guilty when she said that. "But whatever it is, it's bad. He didn't want me to go back to Hogwarts."

"Maybe he's bluffing." Ron said through a mouthful of cake. "Maybe Draco's father wants to spook all the muggle- borns so they won't return."

"I hate to say it," said Draco. "But that sounds like something my father would do. He isn't the one for killing people. But he's very skillful in fear tactics."

"Are you going to leave Hogwarts?" Neville asked sheepishly. He didn't like that someone was planning to hurt the muggle- borns at Hogwarts.

"No, I'm not." Hermione said proudly. "You can't scare me that easily."

"You'll need someone to protect you then." Draco blurted out. "I nominate myself."

Ron scoffed. "Really? You don't even see her most of the day. It should be me—we're in the same house."

"That's not a reason." Draco retorted. "Neville's also in the same house."

Ron rolled his eyes. "But it's _Neville._ No offense."

Neville shrugged. "It's alright."

Ron turned back to Draco. "What's your reason?"

Draco smirked. "I'm a Slytherin—meaning I'm sneaky and cunning. I'm also more magically skilled than you."

Ron turned red. "You are not!"

"Are too." Draco said cockily. "When we get back in school, I'll prove it. Then we'll know who the best person to protect Hermione is."

"That would imply that I need protection." Hermione said irritably. "Which by the way, _I don't need._ "

"But—" Ron spluttered.

"But what if something happens to you?" Draco said desperately.

"I can take care of myself." Hermione spat. "But if the situation presents itself, I appoint Theodore."

Ron and Draco's mouth fell opened. Neville and Tobias started laughing as Theodore rubbed his hands together maniacally.

"This birthday just gets better and better."

* * *

When Draco returned home from Nott Manor, he had only one thing on his mind.

Dobby.

He needed to know what his father's so-called "plot" was. And since he knew better than to ask his father himself, he would ask Dobby. Seeing as Draco was the Malfoy heir, it wouldn't take much for him to get the information from the house elf. And he truly needed that information—Hermione was in trouble.

"Dobby!" The blonde Slytherin yelled.

There was a small _pop_ and the tiny creature appeared before him. He was wearing his usual dirty pillow case and his hands were wrapped in white bandages. It look as if Dobby had just returned from punishing himself. For what exactly—Draco had a guess.

"The Malfoy heir has called for Dobby?" The house elf squeaked.

Draco put his hands in his pockets as he stared at Dobby. "Yes, Dobby. I wanted to talk to you about a visit you paid to a friend of mine."

He watched as Dobby's eyes grew bigger. The elf began to fumble with his pillowcase. "D—Dobby hasn't m—made any visits, sir."

"So you didn't visit Hermione Granger last night?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. "Or any of the other muggle- borns from Hogwarts?"

This time Dobby's eyes welled up with tears. He began to shake his head frantically and his hands were clawing at his pillowcased shirt. Draco knew he was on the verge of grabbing something to hit himself with. He quickly kneeled down and grabbed Dobby's hands, preventing him from any such action.

"It's alright, Dobby." Draco whispered. "I want to help them. I want to help the muggle- borns." Draco held in a snort as he said this. He didn't truly care for all of the muggle- borns—just one. But he needed Dobby to trust him.

"I can't help them if you don't tell me what my father is up to."

Dobby shook his head once more. "Sir Malfoy has forbidden Dobby from telling anyone about his plan."

"So there is a plan?"

"Yes." Dobby nodded. "Horrible things are going to happen this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The muggle- born students will not be safe."

Draco felt a rock splashdown in the pit of his stomach. So it was true—this wasn't a bluff. Hermione and the rest of the muggle- borns were in trouble. He had to tell the rest.

"Does the plan involve _killing_ anyone, Dobby?" Draco asked slowly, trying his best to keep his breathing leveled.

"Dobby does not know. And even if Dobby knew, Dobby could not tell."

The blonde Slytherin huffed, releasing Dobby's hands in defeat. He plopped down on his bed, dismissing the house elf in the process. He didn't get as much information as he wanted, but he did learn some things. There was someone trying to hurt Hermione and it was his father.

He pulled out a piece of parchment out of his pocket. He reached over for a quill and began to scribble a note to Hermione. She needed to know that this was serious, and that Theodore wouldn't be able to protect her the way he could. Theodore took everything as a joke, and this was certainly _not_ a joke. He wrote quickly and precisely—trying his best to discreetly persuade Hermione to allow him to protect her.

Once he was finished, he called for his owl, Zeus, and tied the parchment to his owl's leg. He whispered the destination to the owl, a precaution he took so his parents wouldn't overhear him. The bird nodded in understanding and flew out of the window.

Draco then plopped back on his bed and groaned— this would be a long year.

* * *

Ron couldn't even take a step out of his chimney when his mother grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the kitchen.

"Ow. _Mum_!"

"You hush your mouth Ronald Billius Weasley or that'll be the last thing you say!"

Ron closed his mouth, gritting his teeth as his mother tightened her grip on his ear. As they walked into the kitchen, he noticed that Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting at the kitchen table. Ron had to hold in a laugh as he noticed one of their ears were red as well.

"Sit." She commanded. "Your father will be here soon."

Mrs. Weasley then marched out of the kitchen, leaving the four brothers in the kitchen. Ron took this as an opportunity to find out what was going on.

"The bloody hell happened to you three?" he whispered.

"Mum found out about the car." Said Fred.

George nodded. "It wasn't pretty either."

"How did she find out?"

Fred shot a glare at Percy. "Why don't you ask Mr. Prefect over there?"

"You _told?!_ " Ron snapped.

"Yes, I _told._ " Percy said promptly. "I specifically told you that I wasn't taking you to that party, and you went anyway. Not only did you go behind my back, but you also put the exposure of the wizarding world at risk. What if a muggle saw that car?"

"But a muggle didn't." Fred retorted back.

"It has an invisibility boost." George grumbled.

Percy rolled his eyes. "The point is—you left in an _illegal_ muggle car."

"I think you're just jealous you didn't get to ride in it Perce." George teased.

Percy opened his mouth to retort, but the voice of their mother stopped him. They could hear the distant voices coming from the front door. Their father was home. Ron felt his heart beat faster and faster as the voices grew louder—his mother being the loudest.

"Your sons took that enchanted flying car of yours last night!" They heard her say.

" _Really?_ " Mr. Weasley responded, sounding intrigued. "How did it go?"

There was a small smack and the boys could tell that their mother had hit him. Their theory had been confirmed as the two walked into the kitchen, Mr. Weasley rubbing his arm.

" _No note! Bed's empty!_ Your father's shed broken into! You all realize you could've _died_ , correct?"

"Molly I don't think they would've— Mr. Weasley tried to ease her temper, but soon regretted it as she rounded on him.

"And _you!_ What happened to just taking it apart and seeing how it worked? I pretty sure muggle cars don't _fly._ "

Mr. Weasley blinked.

"Isn't that against the laws you've been trying so hard to enforce, Arthur?" Ron could hear the venom in her tone.

"Well, you see, dear," His father said carefully. "If you read the law correctly, you'll find that there is a loophole."

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised. "A loophole?"

"Yes, a loophole." Mr. Weasley nodded. "As long as I wasn't _intending_ to fly the car, it wouldn't matter if the car was able to fly or not. _Ouch!_ What was that for?"

Indeed, Mrs. Weasley had smacked her husband on the back of his head, her temper flaring this time.

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" she shouted. Mr. Weasley turned red. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that muggle rubbish in your shed! Ron, Fred, and George drove all the way to _Theodore Nott's_ house and back last night!"

"Theodore Nott?" Mr. Weasley then looked to Ron. " _The_ Theodore Nott? The one your friends with?"

Ron nodded.

"Wow." Mr. Weasley whispered. He then looked to Fred and George. "Did it go alright? How did the invisibility boost do?"

Fred and George didn't dare answer as their mother glared daggers at them. Mr. Weasley looked and his excitement quickly fell. He cleared his throat.

"What I meant to say was that was very wrong boys—very wrong indeed. But in other news, we had nine raids today. Nine! And one of the houses belonged to Lucius Malfoy."

Ron's head shot up at the name Lucius Malfoy. The Lucius Malfoy, who was planning something against the muggle- borns at Hogwarts. Maybe he could find out something through his father.

"Did you all find anything dad?" Ron asked, trying to not sound so suspicious.

Mr. Weasley groaned. "Unfortunately no. Somebody must've tipped him off—his house was clean."

Ron frowned. "You don't think he's up to something do you?"

"Lucius Malfoy?" His father said. "I wouldn't doubt it." He looked towards his wife, a concerned looked on his face. "His house was _clean,_ Molly. A house that big we should've at least found _something._ "

Ron sat there, his mind swirling with thoughts and questions. So Lucius Malfoy was up to something. Why else would he clean his house of all the muggle artifacts? Another question would be: Why does Lucius Malfoy have muggle artifacts inside his house?

"May we go now, mum?" He asked.

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes, dear, you all may go."

The four Weasley brothers then rose from the table and went their separate ways. Fred and George went outside- Ron heard them mumbling something about new Quidditch plays—and he and Percy went upstairs. Percy went into his room and shut the door and Ron went to his, doing the same.

He ran to his desk and ripped a piece of parchment from his Hogwarts letter and scribbled a note to Hermione. Lucius Malfoy was up to something, and maybe Draco was a part of it, too. Ron noticed the way Draco was protective over Hermione, and how close they had gotten over first year. He and Malfoy weren't exactly friends—which gave Ron every right to suspect that Draco may have something to do with his father's plans.

He whistled for Percy's owl, Hermes, and tied the crumpled parchment to its leg. When the bird flew away, Ron felt accomplished. There would be no doubt that Hermione would change her mind and let him protect her.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review! We're just getting started.**


	19. COS3: Dygon Nelly

You were the song stuck in my head

Every song that I've ever loved

Played again and again and again

And you can get what you but it's never enough

~ Favorite Record x Fall Out Boy

Chapter 19: Dygon Nelly

Lucius Malfoy watched arrogantly as the last of the Ministry officials left his manor, each with a disappointed look on their face. He smirked at Arthur Weasley, who led the raid on his house that afternoon. They had been expecting to find countless amounts of muggle artifacts that had been tampered with by dark magic. Lucius's smirk grew wider. He actually had these countless amounts of tampered muggle artifacts but had them moved as soon as he caught word that the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts were planning to raid a few of the Sacred 28 manors.

Ministry officials stormed through the house, flipping over every couch cushion and mattress. They looked behind every door and in every room. They checked under all the beds and inside the kitchen cabinets. They even resorted to looking in the plants—they literally searched everywhere. The Malfoy manor was tossed upside down, but after hours and hours of searching, the Ministry found nothing. Not one single muggle artifact. The house was clean.

Of course, Narcissa Malfoy was not happy with the Ministry running wild through their home, but Lucius could not explain it to her until after they left.

"I thought that cleaning out the place would have prevented the Ministry from raiding our home." She said, her lips pursed. She stormed towards her husband, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "Look at what they've done!"

Lucius chuckled. "Have the house elves clean it, Cissa." He then took his wife in his arms. "What we should be celebrating is the fact that they found _nothing._ "

"Because you moved it, of course." His wife responded, unmoved by her husband's gesture. "An action you have yet to explain to me."

Her husband smiled, reaching inside of his robes to pull out a black leather diary. Narcissa furrowed her brow.

"A diary?" She said slowly. She stared back at her husband, who was still smiling as if he had made the biggest accomplishment in his life—other than marrying a Black.

"You moved all of our belongings and had the Ministry raid the manor for a _diary?_ "

"Not just any diary, my love. This diary will change our lives. If the Ministry had found at least one of our artifacts—they would've been on my back about everything else. Especially when the purging starts."

" _Purging?"_

Lucius Malfoy kissed his wife's forehead, noticing his heir standing in the doorway. "Later."

Draco was standing in the archway of the Malfoy parlor, his textbook list in his hand. He wore a black shirt, black trousers, and his black traveling cloak. It was all he could manage since his room now looked like a herd of hippogriffs had trampled through it.

"Are you ready to go to Diagon Alley, dear?" His mother asked him, releasing herself from Lucius's grip and walking towards him.

Draco nodded. "Yes, mother. Will Theodore and Tobias be there?"

"Yes, they will meet us at Flourish and Blotts."

"Do you have everything you need, Draco?" His father asked him.

"Yes, father."

"Well, then we should be off." Lucius Malfoy said, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. "We don't want to be late to meet the others."

Draco took his mother's hand and walked towards the fireplace where his father stood waiting for them. He barely heard his father say the words as they were engulfed in green flames. All he could hear was the word "purging" playing over and over again in his head. His father was planning to purge to muggle- borns.

But how?

* * *

Hermione was walking around Flourish and Blotts with Ron and Neville. Though she had already gotten her books, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to get her books signed by Gilderoy Lockhart himself. She literally squealed when she read in the Daily Prophet that the famous author would be doing a book signing in Diagon Alley today. She hadn't been expecting to find Ron and Neville there, but she was glad that she had found something to pass the time with.

But she hadn't been expecting to pass the time arguing with Ron about his so-called "protection." Last night, she had received a letter from him saying that he suspected that Draco had something to do with Lucius Malfoy's plans. She literally almost laughed at him as the words came out of his mouth. Draco was their friend—he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She assumed that Ron was just upset that she chose Theo to be her so- called "protector." But as she stated this fact, it didn't cease Ron's rant.

"You've seen the way he acts around her, Neville." He said bitterly. "He follows you around like a dog on a leash. He knows your every move, Hermione. Plus, he's a Slytherin—sneaky—he could do anything."

"You're being ridiculous, Ronald." Hermione said in a sing- song manner as she flipped through a book.

Ron shook his head. "You trust him too much. Slytherins are no good, backstabbing—"

"He saved your _life_ last term, Ron!" Hermione snapped. She was sick of hearing Ron bash the Slytherins when it was obvious that they weren't all the same. She had three friends who were Slytherins—three _boys_ at that.

"Actually, Snape saved my life." Ron argued but felt a tingly feeling in his stomach as those words left his lips.

"Because of _Draco_." Hermione huffed. "And anyway, I also received a letter from Draco last night. One that didn't suspect any 'back-stabbing'" She raised her fingers to portray the quotations. "actions."

Ron frowned. "What did he say?"

Hermione pulled another book from the shelf. "He's worried about me. There is indeed something about to happen at Hogwarts this year. He doesn't want me to take the situation likely."

"Sounds like he's trying to make you paranoid. Get you off your game so he can attack at the right moment."

The bushy haired Gryffindor rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "I know so. I'm telling you, Hermione, he's bad news."

Hermione ignored him. She grabbed Neville's arm and lead them away from Ron, who was now red in the face.

"Hermione?" Neville said softly when they were a good distance away from the freckled- faced Gryffindor.

"Yes?"

Neville shuffled his feet, trying to find the right words to say. "What if Ron's right?"

Hermione sighed. "Not you too, Neville."

The dumpy Gryffindor shook his head. "It's not that I don't trust Draco, it's just—"

"Just _what?"_ Hermione had her hands on her hips now. Neville gulped, trying to decide if he should continue with his statement or not. Hermione was not one to reckon with.

"It's just, what if Draco doesn't have a choice? This is his father we're talking about."

Hermione opened her mouth to disagree but stopped. Neville had a point. She would like to say that she and Draco's friendship was strong enough to prevent anything of that matter from happening—but this _was_ his father. What if his father made him do something he didn't want to? He would have to choose. And there would be no doubt that he would choose his father.

* * *

Tobias and Theodore were sitting in the parlor of LeStrange manor. Tobias was practicing his parseltongue while Theodore read over their textbook list for the new term. As Theo read the book list, he felt more irritated by the moment.

"Break with a Banshee? Gadding with Ghouls?" He said each name louder as his frustration grew. " _Holiday with Hags_? Who in Salazar's name made these?"

Tobias responded, but Theodore rolled his eyes as his dark- haired friend was still speaking parseltongue.

"English please, snake boy."

"Sorry." Tobias said. "Gilderoy Lockhart."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"He's the new defense against the dark arts professor. We'll probably meet him today—there's been rumors that he's supposed to be doing some book-signing at Flourish and Blotts."

"Great. Now he can sign all seven of these abominations." Theodore huffed. "What the bloody hell does gadding even mean?"

"Language, Mister Nott."

Theodore sat up quickly, his eyes meeting those of one Tom Riddle. The elder man was standing in the doorway of the parlor, a bag of floo powder in his hand.

"Sorry, Mister Riddle." Theodore said with a feeble smile.

Tom Riddle nodded. "Are you two ready to go to Diagon Alley?"

The two boys nodded, getting up and grabbing their traveling cloaks. They stepped inside the fireplace, preparing to floo to Diagon Alley. Theodore was sure to grab enough floo powder for the both of them. The two Slytherins then stood there, awaiting further instructions from Tobias's grandfather.

"Remember," Tom Riddle said carefully. "You are to meet the Malfoys in Flourish and Blotts. Lucius will alert me when you all have made it."

"Are you sure you can't come with us, grandfather?" Tobias asked.

His grandfather gave him a small smile. "Maybe another time."

"Mister Riddle, I have a question."

Tom Riddle turned towards the Nott Heir, who was looking uncertainly at the floo powder in his hand.

"Yes, Theodore?"

"What happens if we say the destination wrong?" Theodore asked sincerely, still looking at the gray powder in his hand.

The elder man raised an eyebrow. "Why would you say the destination wrong?"

"Say if someone didn't know how to actually pronounce it." Theodore explained. "Will it still take them to the same place?"

"What does this have to—" Tom Riddle said irritably, but then took a deep breath. "Mister Nott do you not know how to say Diagon Alley?"

Theodore shook his head. "Of course I do, Mister Riddle. It was just a question that's all."

"Then say it. _Correctly._ The Malfoys are waiting for you two."

Theodore then nodded, but Tom Riddle could see a devious glint in the boy's eyes. His eyes grew wider, and there was a strange feeling in his gut that Theodore's question was not just a question.

" _Theodore._ " He warned, but it was too late.

"Dygon Nelly!" Theodore yelled, and the two boys were engulfed in a band of green flames.

Tom Riddle watched as the two boys disappeared. He shook his head, praying to Salazar that his grandson and the Nott heir ended up where they needed to be.

"Just like his mother, that one is." He said under his breath, walking away from the parlor and up to his study.

* * *

Draco walked inside Flourish and Blotts and felt his heart stop as he found Hermione's bushy brown hair. Her back was turned to him as she was looking through a stack of books. He smiled. Typical Granger. He walked away from his parents, making the excuse that he was going to begin looking for his textbooks. He heard his father saying something about getting him and Tobias new brooms, and his mother saying something about heading over to Gringotts when he was finished.

The blonde Slytherin gathered his books quickly, hoping to gain more time to speak to Hermione. When he found her, she wasn't standing in front of the same bookcase she was earlier, but sitting at a table in the back of the store.

"Well Hello, Granger." He said with a smirk.

The bushy haired Gryffindor looked up, a smile on her face. "Draco!"

Draco sat down in the seat in front of her. He noticed that she was reading one of their textbooks from Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Did you get my letter?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes didn't leave her book. "Yes, I did."

" _So?"_

"So what?" Hermione said, lifting her head from her book.

"You're going to let me protect you, right?"

The witch sighed and closed her book. "Draco, I don't need protection. And I've already appointed somebody."

"Yeah, yeah, Theodore I know. But you know Theo, he takes everything as a joke. Hermione this—this isn't a joke."

"This isn't a _competition_ either, Draco." Hermione said back.

"I know." The blonde Slytherin groaned. "I just- I overheard my father talking to my mother earlier—he said something about a purge."

Hermione frowned. "A purge? On the muggle- borns? How?"

"I don't know." The blonde Slytherin shrugged. "But I just—I thought I should tell you, cause I— I don't want you to get hurt."

Hermione smiled a bit. "And I won't. But if you and Ron keep going head to head like this, I'm going to lose it. I need all of my friends on the same team."

Draco frowned. "Weasley? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Ron sent me a letter too, trying to convince me to let him protect me. Making some excuse that you can't be trusted. It's really pathetic what you both are doing."

Draco's mouth fell opened. "What _I'm_ doing? It's Weasley who's pathetic! He's just—he's always been jealous of me."

"It's you both." The witch snapped. "You two turning against each other may cause more harm than good."

"Hermione, he—"

"He is my _friend._ " Hermione interrupted him. "And so are you, Draco."

Draco wanted to argue back, but he couldn't. This was Hermione—who would no doubt make a more convincing argument on the matter than he would.

"Fine." He huffed. "Just be careful."

Hermione rose from her seat, gathering her books. "I always am." She teased.

Draco watched as she walked away. She was right about Ron and him turning against each other. But he couldn't believe the Weasel actually said he couldn't be trusted. He saved his life last term! Maybe Draco wouldn't turn against him, for Hermione's sake, but Ron would pay for what he said.

"Sweetheart, are you ready to go?"

Draco looked up to notice his mother standing in front of him. He nodded and gathered his books. He followed his mother to the counter to pay. As they approached, he found his father conversing with none other than Arthur Weasley.

"Still surprised that you didn't find anything in my home, Weasley?" His father drawled.

"There will be more raids, Malfoy. It would be best not to forget that." Arthur Weasley retorted back.

"Ah, the more the merrier." Lucius Malfoy smirked. "Exactly how much more disappointment can you take, Arthur? I do hope they're paying you overtime."

He reached inside a cauldron that belonged to a small red- haired girl. By the looks of her, Draco assumed that was Ron's little sister, Ginny. He watched as his father pulled out an old, worn- out transfiguration book.

"Obviously not." His father coldly. He then dropped the book back in her cauldron. Draco jumped as it made a louder thump than it was supposed to. He didn't remember his first- year transfiguration book being that heavy.

"What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Arthur Weasley then stepped up, extending a hand to push Ginny behind him. He was now facing Lucius.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy." He said lowly.

Draco could feel a fight coming on, but knowing his mother, she would put a stop to it before it even happened. And she did, which Draco was relieved for.

" _Lucius._ " She snapped. "Let's go."

Draco's father looked at his wife, and then back at Mr. Weasley, who was redder than Ron was when he was mad—and that was saying something. His father smirked at the man before turning to leave the store.

"Clearly." He said. "Come, Draco."

They then walked out of the store. Draco sighed in relief as they avoided this fight—seeing as it would give Ron more reasons to convince everyone not to trust him. But knowing Ron and how family oriented he was, he would still probably find a reason.

* * *

Tobias felt himself being forcefully dragged down a drain. His ears roared and he felt like he would be sick at any moment. He didn't exactly like this feeling, but Theodore seemed to enjoy it. Tobias could hear his laughter in the distance. Tobias then felt a shrinking feeling and his chest tightening. He closed his eyes, hoping this was the end.

The two boys fell face first out of a fireplace. Tobias looked up, hoping that they had ended up in Flourish and Blotts, but to his surprise—or not—they did not end up in the bookshop. Tobias stayed on the ground, motioning for Theodore to do the same. Wherever they were, it wasn't where they should be. The dark haired Slytherin looked around, noticing blood- stained cards, a glass eye, evil masks, spiked instruments—these were all muggle artifacts.

"Theodore." He whispered to his brown haired companioned.

"Yeah?"

"I think I know where we are." Tobias looked around the store once more. "We're in Borgin and Burkes."

"How the bloody hell did we end up here?" Theodore whispered back, disappointed. "I said Dygon Nelly. That sounds nothing like Borgin and Burkes. It doesn't even start with the same letter."

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Either way, we should've ended up in _Diagon Alley._ " He then stood up, dusting the soot from his robes. "What was the point of that, anyway?"

Theodore stood up as well. "Thought it would be fun." He shrugged.

"Does this look fun to you?"

"On the contrary my friend," said the other Slytherin. He walked towards an assortment of human bones. He took out his wand and began tapping each bone, each one making a different sound. "This is very entertaining."

Tobias sighed. Leave it to Theo to make this creepy store seem like a theme park. He walked towards the front of the shop and looked out of the window. All he could see was a dark and narrow street—this definitely was not Diagon Alley.

"What are you two doing in here?!"

Tobias jumped and Theodore's head shot up as the voice rang through the store. They both turned around to find an old man with very oily hair staring at them both. He looked as dusty as the store did and he reeked of old sheets. The old man's face quickly changed as he realized the two Slytherins standing in his shop.

"Oh, Mister Nott. Mister LeStrange." He said smiling. "I wasn't expecting you two to be visiting today." He looked around, hoping to find someone else lurking around the shop.

"Is your grandfather here?"

Tobias shook his head. "No sir, Mister—"

"Borgin." The man said eagerly, rushing over to Tobias to shake his hand and then doing the same to Theo.

Tobias nodded. "Mister Borgin."

Mr. Borgin then ran behind his counter, pulling out a box of seemed to be more muggle artifacts. He looked at the two boys, that grimy smile still on his face.

"How may I be of assistance?" He reached inside the box. "I must show you, just in today, very reasonable priced—Mister Zabini!"

Tobias and Theodore whipped around to indeed notice Darian Zabini stepping inside the store, along with Blaise. Theodore glared at the boy, but Tobias was too busy noticing the black metal box Zabini's father was holding in his arms.

"Father." Zabini said irritably, becoming disgusted with the contents of the shop. "I thought you said you were going to get me a present."

"And I will, Blaise." His father responded. "I just need to handle some business first." He then looked at Tobias and Theodore. "Theodore, Tobias, how are you two?"

"Fine." They both said.

The elder Zabini nodded. "Very good then." He walked over to the counter and set the box upon it. Mister Borgin frowned at the sight of the box.

"Selling today, are we Mister Zabini?" The store owner said bitterly.

"Yes." The elder Zabini responded. "I'm sure you have heard of the raids being conducted on some of the Sacred 28 homes. I have a few things that would—let's put it lightly—embarrass me, should the Ministry find it."

Darian Zabini opened the box and Mister Borgin looked through it. "Ah, I see." Mister Borgin said under his breath. Tobias walked around the counter slowly, hoping to see what was inside Zabini's box but Mister Borgin closed it before he could get a better view. The store owner then put the box under the counter.

"Father, may I have this?"

Tobias turned his head to notice Blaise looking at a withered hand on a couch cushion. Tobias frowned at the artifact, wondering why Zabini would want that as a present.

"Ah!" Mister Borgin said. "The Hand of Glory! A marvelous choice, young Master Zabini. Friends to thieves and plunders that is."

Tobias saw Mister Zabini raise an eyebrow at the old store owner.

"Are you implying that my son is a thief, Borgin?" His voice was casual, but Tobias could hear the dead coldness behind it.

"No, no. Of course not." The old man responded quickly.

"Though," Darian Zabini continued just as casually. "if my son's grades do not improve, that may be all he will be good for. No one wants an average achieving heir, now do they Blaise?"

"It's not my fault." Blaise spat. "It's that stupid Hermione Granger."

Tobias felt his body tense up at the sound of 'stupid' and Hermione's name. He looked to Theodore, who also went rigid, his fist balled. Tobias walked over and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, hoping to ease his temper. Blaise obvious didn't have the gall to call her a 'mudblood' with Tobias standing in the room.

"We will talk more about this later." Darian Zabini said coldly. "Come, Blaise. Good day to you Mister Borgin, I will be back in a few days to collect my earnings."

Mr. Borgin nodded. The elder Zabini then turned to Tobias and Theodore. "Good day Mister LeStrange, Mister Nott."

Tobias and Theodore simply nodded. They both watched as the Zabinis walked out of Borgin and Burkes. Tobias noticed that Borgin had left the front of the shop once more.

"Come on," He said to Theodore. "Let's get out of here."

Theodore nodded, and they both stepped out of the store. There were many broken down and creepy shops just like Borgin and Burkes. They walked past window displays of shrunken heads and a store with caged black spiders. They walked passed creepy and shabby looking wizards—some even stopped to stare at the two boys as they walked by.

"Tobias, this isn't fun anymore." He heard Theodore say.

Tobias nodded.

"But at least we know where we are now." His companion said. "Look."

Tobias looked up, noticing an old wooden street sign hanging over a potions shop. Knockturn Alley.

"Knockturn Alley?" he said. "That's not far from Diagon Alley. Come on."

The two boys then set off, running as fast as they could. But it was hard, considering the fact that the street was narrow and crowded. As they ran, they ran into an old lady with a tray of what looked like human finger nails. Tobias almost vomited, but Theodore grabbed his arm and walked passed her.

"Sorry, we're not buying!" He yelled.

The two kept walking, pushing through the crowd. Tobias wasn't actually sure where Theodore was taking him, but by the bright light that was filling up the dark alley—they were walking closer and closer to Diagon Alley. Tobias felt his heart lift as he saw the snowy white building of Gringotts Bank. They were almost there when a booming voice startled them both.

"TOBIAS! THEODORE!"

The two boys turned around to find Hagrid standing a few steps behind them.

"Hagrid!"

The game- keeper walked closer. "What are you two doing in Knockturn Alley?"

Tobias shot a look at Theodore, and the brown haired Slytherin smiled weakly. "You see Hagrid. It's a funny story—"

Hagrid shook his head. "No time fer stories. Let's get yeh outta here."

The three then walked up the final steps separating Knockturn Alley from Diagon Alley. Tobias looked up to notice Draco and his mother leaving Gringotts. The blonde Slytherin must've seen them because he came running towards the three.

"Where the bloody hell have you two been?" He snapped. He then looked up at the giant standing behind them. "Hey, Hagrid."

"Hullo Draco!"

"It's a long story." Tobias said. "Come on, let's get to Flourish and Blotts. See you later, Hagrid."

The three Slytherins then made their way to the bookstore. When they walked inside, Tobias noticed it was extremely crowded. He quickly found the answer to the commotion hanging from the ceiling in gold and purple writing.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

will be signing copies of his autobiography

 _MAGICAL ME_

today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

"Well goody," Theodore sneered. "The rumors are true."

The three boys squeezed their way through the store. They pushed through reporters and cameramen for the Daily Prophet—Theodore telling each one that they indeed did not want a picture. As they made their way to the front of the line, they found Hermione and Ron's mother standing front row. Draco frowned at the fact that Hermione looked completely bonkers as she stared at the wizard in front of her.

Gilderoy Lockhart stood before the crowd wearing robes of forget- me- not blue and a pointy wizard hat that was adjusted at the right angle where you could still see his wavy blonde hair. Draco looked at the two and snarled, and soon growled again as a flash of light blinded him.

Draco couldn't even regain his eyesight as he was being grabbed by a Daily Prophet cameraman and pulled up on stage.

"Oi!" He heard Theodore yell. "Get your filthy hands of me!"

"Could it be?" He heard Gilderoy Lockhart say with awe. "The four Sacred 28 heirs? In Flourish and Blotts?"

Draco was now looking at the audience from the stage. He stood between Tobias and Theodore, Zabini standing on the other side of Theo. Everyone watched them in awe, the Daily Prophet snapping pictures left and right.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"

"Some time?" Theodore spat. "We just met you!"

"When Mister LeStrange, Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott, and Mister Zabini stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography—"

"—we didn't want that—"

"They had _no idea_ that they would be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me._ "

Tobias could barely hear what Lockhart was saying as he noticed someone in the crowd. It was a young girl, most likely a first year, standing with a cauldron full of books in her hand. She had freckles and flaming red hair. Tobias didn't know what was happening, but he felt his heart skip a beat and his hands growing very sweaty.

"Who's that?" He whispered to Draco.

"Ginny." His cousin whispered back. "That's Ron's sister."

Tobias nodded, still staring at the girl. He almost jumped when he realized Ginny was staring back at him, but for some reason, he couldn't remove his gaze. He watched as Ginny's face turned a deep and embarrassing red and looked away.

"Are all her books hand- me- downs?"

"Pretty much." Draco responded. "Weasleys, remember?"

The next moment there were cheers and claps as Tobias and the rest of the heirs found themselves being handed Lockhart's full collection. Tobias almost collapsed under the weight of all the books but managed to walk through the crowd where he found Ron, his father, and Ginny standing at the back of the store.

"Well look who it is." Ron teased. "The _famous_ Tobias LeStrange."

Tobias laughed. "Bugger off, Ron. How do you do, Mister Weasley?"

"Tobias LeStrange!" Mr. Weasley said excitedly. "What a pleasure to meet you! Ron has told me all about you and—"

"Dad." Ginny interrupted, and Tobias became entranced by the lightness of her voice. "You're rambling again."

"Right, Right." Mr. Weasley said. "Congrats on your books."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, but I won't be keeping them."

Ron seemed confused. "But we need them for school."

"I'll be buying my own." Tobias continued, turning towards Ginny. "I wanted to give these to her. To Ginny." He tipped the books into her cauldron.

"Uh, thanks?" Ginny said, backing up a bit to stand beside her father.

"He's just as polite as you said he was, Ron." Mr. Weasley said.

Tobias smiled politely. "Just trying to help. I'll see you around, Ginny."

Tobias then walked away, but he could barely walk as his stomach was in knots. He felt foolish. _I'll see you around, Ginny_? He groaned—she thought he was some creepy Slytherin bloke now. He walked back over to where Draco and Theodore were standing.

"The nerve of that guy," Theodore pouted. "Giving us free books. He didn't even sign them."

Draco laughed but soon stopped as he saw Tobias walking towards them. The dark- haired Slytherin looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"You alright there, LeStrange?" Draco called out.

"Yeah," Tobias responded weakly. "Fine."

"Where's your books?" Theodore asked.

"Gave them to Ginny."

"Ginny?" Theodore asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Ron's little sister." Draco said with a smirk. "I think Tobias fancies her."

Tobias frowned. "Is it that noticeable?"

Theodore nodded. "I mean if you gave me free books, I would think you fancy me, too."

Tobias groaned and his two friends started laughing. This would definitely be a long year.

* * *

When Ginny got home, she fell face first on her bed. Today had been chaotic. Her father almost started a fight with Lucius Malfoy. She met Gilderoy Lockhart, and some weird Slytherin kid gave her free books. And what made everything worse, she thinks the boy fancies her. If only she could do magic, she would've hexed him then and there. She rolled on her back, hoping that she wouldn't have to see him again, but she had a feeling she would.

The boy was Tobias LeStrange. The Tobias LeStrange that was friends with her brother, who had been talking about him the whole summer holiday. Ron kept going on and on about how they sat at the same table and took all their classes together.

Ginny groaned. She looked at her cauldron full of new books, and for once wished she had the usual hand- me- down books her parents could afford. Her brow furrowed as she noticed a small black leather book hanging out the side of her cauldron. She didn't remember picking up a black book. She didn't remember her parents grabbing one for her either.

She got out of the bed and walked over to her study, pulling the leather book out of the metal pot. As she held it in her hands, she realized that what she was holding was a diary. It looked old and used, but when she opened it, she noticed that the pages were blank. The red- haired Weasley girl smiled—she had a diary. She had something to write all her deepest and most embarrassing secrets in, and nobody would know. Being the only girl in a house of boys had its disadvantages—nobody really understood how it felt.

She sat down, pulling out one of her newly bought quills and opening the diary. She turned to the first page and began to write.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Hi, I'm Ginny Weasley._

Ginny dipped her quill back into her ink jar, but when she returned back to write, she noticed that her previous writing was gone. Her heart dropped as she discovered that something else was written on the parchment—and it wasn't what she wrote.

 _Hello, Ginny. I'm Tom Riddle._

Ginny quickly closed the book, hoping that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or maybe this was another one of Fred and George's pranks. She reopened the book, only to find that this was not a trick, the hand writing was still there. Ginny took her quill and began to write again.

 _Are you a ghost?_

She watched as her writing disappeared, and watched as the so- called Tom Riddle's hand writing appear again.

 _Not exactly. I live in this diary. This is a special kind of diary. You write all your secrets in here and I keep will them. No one can see them and your writing will only appear if you ask me to show it._

 _Really?_ Ginny wrote back.

 _Yes._ Tom Riddle responded. _Think of me as your own personal friend._

Ginny read the words over and over again. Personal friend? She never had her own personal friend. Someone who she could tell all her secrets and embarrassing moments to without somebody else finding out. And here was this special diary, offering her this friendship she never had.

She looked back down at the parchment and noticed that Tom Riddle had written something else.

 _So tell me about your day._

Ginny smiled, and she began writing away to Tom Riddle about her day in Diagon Alley. She told him about Tobias LeStrange and Gilderoy Lockhart and how her father and Lucius Malfoy almost fought in the bookshop. She laughed and giggled as Tom made jokes about her day, but Ginny also found out that he was really helpful and knew just what to say. She didn't want to stop writing.

It was nearly nightfall when she heard her mother call her down for dinner. Ginny frowned, seeing as she was having so much fun talking to her special friend.

 _We can talk more in the morning._ Tom wrote.

Ginny smiled again. _Ok. Goodnight Tom._

 _Goodnight, Ginny._

 **Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad that you all are enjoying the story and trust, there is more to come! Please continue to follow, fav, and review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	20. COS4: Weasley Contraptions

**So the Fourth of July is coming up, and I needed an excuse to post this chapter early because I finished it yesterday. The anticipation was killing me. Next update will be Wednesday!**

Oh, Oh

I'm falling so I'm taking my time on ride

Oh, I'm falling so I'm taking my time on my ride

Taking my time on my ride

~ Ride x Twenty One Pilots

Chapter 20: Weasley Contraptions

Lord Voldemort was sitting in his study when Lucius and Severus arrived. He made sure that Tobias and Theodore were occupied for the evening before his meeting with his two most faithful servants. The heirs were still too young to be involved with his plans. The Nott heir also proved to be rather reckless when it came to certain procedures. His "Dygon Nelly" stunt he pulled proved that the heirs needed a little bit more time before their training became serious.

He watched as Lucius and Severus sat down in the two chairs in front of his desk, both wearing their black Death Eater robes. Lucius seemed particularly happy about something and Severus looked the same as always. Sometimes Lord Voldemort regretted teaching Snape occulmency.

"Does she have it?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes, my Lord. The diary was delivered yesterday."

Lord Voldemort smiled. "Excellent. Any news from the school, Severus?"

"Some unusual news, actually." His servant began. "Some of the muggle- born students are withdrawing, my Lord."

" _What?_ " The Dark Lord hissed. "Withdrawing? Why?"

Snape seemed unmoved by his master's change in expression. "I'm not sure my Lord, and neither is Dumbledore."

Lord Voldemort snapped his head at Lucius. "Who did you tell?" His voice was higher- deadlier.

Lucius shook his head, his voice rising higher. "I- I didn't tell anyone, my Lord!"

"Then why are the muggle- born students withdrawing from Hogwarts?! I need them there!"

"My Lord," Snape cut in. "If you would just tell me what your plan is, I can convince some of the muggle- born students to come back."

"No." The Dark Lord said tightly. "I need you to watch over the heirs. Things will become…complicated soon and I need you to make sure that they don't get caught in the crossfire."

"Are you sure?"

Lord Voldemort nodded. "Yes, Severus, I need you to focus on the heirs. As you've seen, they can find themselves in a world of trouble. This world, however, I need them to stay out of."

Snape nodded, though he had an uneasy feeling in his stomach. What did the Dark Lord have planned that would have everyone blaming the heirs? And why wouldn't he tell him?

"Can I trust you with this task?"

Snape gritted his teeth, but nonetheless answered. "Yes, you have my word."

"Very well, then." Said Lord Voldemort. "You are dismissed."

Snape rose out of his seat without saying another word. He walked out of the study, closing the door behind him. Lucius felt his hands sweating as he was now alone with the Dark Lord. He swallowed.

"My Lord." He croaked. "Are you sure we shouldn't involve Severus with our plans? He could be very useful."

Voldemort shook his head. "No. I need him focused on the heirs. Plus, once we begin, Dumbledore may try to penetrate his mind. If I reveal him the plans, the mission will be compromised."

Lucius nodded. "And what about the withdrawals?"

The Dark Lord pondered his question for a moment. "There isn't anything we can do about those, but we can stop the news from spreading. Find the culprit, and bring them to _me._ "

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

The rest of the summer holiday went by rather quickly. Tobias's birthday dinner was held a few weeks ago, and as he expected—it was an event equivalent to a Gatsby party. Hundreds of his grandfather's supporters from all over the world came—bearing gifts and riches that Tobias would've never thought of in his wildest dreams. The dinner was similar to Theodore's, except with the hundreds of other guests. Pansy gave him a gold necklace with a golden snake pendant at the end. The dark- haired Slytherin was relieved that he didn't receive a gift similar to the one Daphne gave to Theodore. He remembered Theo pouting about it all night.

Tobias now walked down the stairs of LeStrange manor, his trunk in tow. He and Theodore would be floo'ing to King's Cross Station. From there they would meet Draco and the rest and find a compartment on the train. It was now ten- thirty- thirty minutes before the Hogwarts Express left the station.

"Come on, slow- poke!" Theodore called from the bottom of the steps. "We're going to miss the train!"

"I'm coming. I'm coming." Tobias grunted. His trunk was heavier than it was last year—he was now towing seven very large and heavy books, all thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart. Theodore huffed impatiently and walked over to help his friend carry his trunk down the remainder of the steps.

"Thanks." Tobias breathed out, flopping down on one of the black leather chairs that sat in the parlor.

Tom Riddle walked in as soon as Tobias sat down. "Do you all have everything?"

Tobias and Theodore nodded.

"Theodore. Your mother said to write to her as soon as you make it to Hogwarts. Have Professor Snape send the letter for you."

"Yes, sir." Said Theodore.

Tom Riddle then turned to his grandson. "Lucius should be sending the new brooms for the team in the next week or so. So don't fret about not having your broom at school with you."

Tobias sighed. "Yes, sir." He then looked at the clock. Ten- forty- five. "I guess we better get going."

He and Theodore then grabbed their trunks and dragged them into the fireplace. Tobias's grandfather pulled out the small bag of floo powder. Theodore tried to reach for it, but Tobias swatted his hand away, grabbing the powder himself.

"Boys." Tom Riddle said. The two Slytherins looked up, their eyes locked on hm.

"Stay out of trouble this year. School is for learning—not for mischief."

Theodore smirked. "Rodger that, Mister Riddle."

"Alright. Now be careful, and good luck."

Tobias gripped the floo powder, preparing to say the destination. "Platform 9 and three quarters." He threw down the powder and he and Theodore were swallowed in a band of green flames once again.

The draining feeling soon ended and the boys stepped out of the many fireplaces that were stationed on the platform. Tobias looked at the time—ten- fifty. He and Theodore hurried to put their trunks and owls on the train and searched for a compartment. They found Neville sitting alone in a compartment near the back of the train.

"Look alive, Longbottom!" Theo called out, causing Neville to jump.

"Oh, hey you guys."

Tobias looked around. "Where's Draco, Ron, and Hermione?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't know. I thought they might've been with you two."

Tobias held on to something as the train shook. It was now eleven o' clock. The Hogwarts Express was leaving the station. Surely the others didn't miss the train. Maybe they were in another compartment waiting for the rest.

"Come on," said Tobias, "Let's look for the others."

Neville got up, dumping his pet frog, Trevor, in his robes. "You don't think they missed the train, do you?"

Theodore snorted. "Hermione? Miss the train to school? I highly doubt that." He cocked his head to the side. "Now Draco and Ron. Eh, that's a different story."

* * *

"You're joking?"

Draco stood outside of King's Cross Station in front of the blue oversized wagon that Ron had used to get to Theodore's sleepover. Hermione brought it to his attention that this oversized wagon was actually called a "car" and that muggles use it to drive wherever they needed to go.

"How are we going to drive to Hogwarts?! It's in the middle of bloody nowhere!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Which is why we aren't going to _drive_ it, Malfoy. We're going to fly it."

"Again, you're joking right?"

Ron turned red, become irritated with Malfoy's protests. "We've already missed the train, Malfoy. So unless you have a better idea—"

"I do have a better idea." Draco spat. "We go to my parents, they'll get us there."

Ron scoffed. "Oh really? And what's going to happen when you bring along a Weasley and a muggle- born?"

Draco shrugged. "They don't know about Hermione. Just change your hair."

"CHANGE MY HAIR?!"

"Can you two STOP?!" Hermione screeched. She was already on edge that she wasn't able to make it through the barrier to Platform 9 and 3/4. Now they had missed the train to Hogwarts.

Draco walked towards her. "Hermione, tell him that taking this—this— _car_ —is ridiculous. I could get us there much faster. We just have to alert my parents."

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "And how are we going to do that? There's no way for us to contact any other wizards. Everything out here is for _muggles_ to use."

Draco frowned, seeing her point. He turned back to Ron. "Can you fly it?"

"No problem." Ron smirked. "How hard can it be?"

Ron then discreetly tapped the trunk with his wand and it opened, revealing a cavernous trunk with enough room to hold all of their things. Ron and Hermione sat in the front and Draco laid down in the back seat.

"Check that no one's watching." Ron told Hermione before starting the ignition with his wand. The car rumbled as Hermione stuck her head out the window. Their street was empty—there wasn't a muggle in sight.

"Okay, we're clear." She said.

"Anytime today, Weasley." Draco sneered from the back seat. "The Hogwarts Express left five minutes ago."

"Piss off, Malfoy." Rom grumbled. He pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard and the car vanished. Draco quickly sat up as the seat under him vanished but relaxed as he could still feel it. The car was still rumbling and he could still feel his clothes and cloak on his body. _Weasley contraptions._

The car rose into the air. "Alright, now we're cooking." He heard Ron say. "Let's go."

Hermione felt her stomach drop as they rose into the air. She wasn't a big fan of heights, especially not heights such as these. She watched as the dirty buildings below them fell away. They were now flying over the city of London—the only sites being the glittering of lights and smoke from chimneys.

Draco laid back on the seat, watching the sky from his window. He couldn't actually concentrate because something kept rubbing against his leg. He ignored it for the most part, until he felt a sharp pinch in his skin.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

Draco leaped up and discovered that the source of the pinch was a furry, brown rat. The blonde Slytherin shrieked, pressing himself against the car window.

"What the bloody hell is that?!"

Ron turned around, now laughing at the sight of Draco. "That's just Scabbers."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the red- haired boy. "This rodent belongs to _you_?!"

"Yes." Ron replied. "He was my brother Percy's at first, but then he gave him to me."

"Do you Weasleys pass down _everything_?"

"Watch it, Malfoy." Ron snapped. "Come here, Scabbers."

Draco watched as the rat scurried over the seat and into Ron's lap. Disgusting little thing it was. He slowly sank back in his seat but kept his eyes on Scabbers.

"Just make sure the bloody thing stays over there."

Ron laughed. "You're not _scared_ of it? Are you?"

" _No!_ " Draco shot back. "I just don't want to catch anything from it."

"Scabbers doesn't have any—"

"Can you two _shut up?!_ " Hermione snapped. They hadn't even reached the school yet and Draco and Ron were already arguing.

"Sorry." She heard Ron mumble.

Draco didn't say anything, but Hermione heard him lay back down on the seat. Everything was silent, and Hermione was grateful for it.

They were flying well for the most part. Ron was actually a good driver. Draco had fallen asleep in the back seat—she couldn't see him, but she could hear him snoring. Hermione wasn't actually sure where they were, but based on the fact that they couldn't see lights and chimney smoke, they weren't in London anymore.

"I gotta hand it to you, Weasley." Draco said groggily. "This wasn't such a bad idea."

Just as Draco said it, there was a popping noise and the car, Hermione, Draco, and Ron reappeared.

"I spoke too soon."

"Uh- oh" Ron said nervously, jabbing at the silver button. "The invisibility boost—it's faulty!"

Draco rolled his eyes. _Weasley contraptions at its best._ The blonde Slytherin climbed over the seat and pummeled the button. The car vanished for a few seconds but reappeared.

"Ron, _do something_!" Hermione screamed. "Why doesn't this thing have seatbelts?!"

"Seat- _what?_ "

"Just do something!"

Ron nodded frantically. "Right, Right." He slammed his foot on the accelerator. "Hold on!"

The car shot downward, and Draco held on to the back seat for dear life. His ears roared, but he could still hear Hermione's ear piercing screams from the front seat. Ron released the accelerator and now they were riding in the clouds, over a train track.

"Weasley, if you _ever_ —" Draco said lowly, his chest heaving up and down.

"Later, Malfoy." Ron spat. "Just look for the bloody train."

Draco mumbled something but stuck his head out the window. "I can't see, drop down some more."

Ron dropped the car a little bit more, allowing them all to see the train track more clearly.

"I can see it!" Hermione yelled, pointing at a red blur moving below them.

"I see it, too." Ron agreed. "Due North. We'll just have to check on it ever half hour—"

"Oh, no." Draco snapped. "I am not staying on this _death trap_ any longer. Get me to the train."

Ron rolled his eyes. "As you wish, your royal pratness."

* * *

"Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but have you seen a bushy brunette about this tall? No. What about a freckled face ginger? No, no, the youngest one. No, the boy. No? Okay, what about a blonde bloke, about neigh high? No? Okay, well thanks—or not, seeing as you didn't know anything—"

"Theo!"

"I'm coming. I'm coming."

Theo closed the door to the compartment. He, Tobias, and Neville had been searching the train for most of the ride to Hogwarts. They looked in every compartment, but they couldn't find Hermione, Draco, and Ron anywhere.

"Why can't you just say their names?" said Tobias as he led the other two back to their original compartment.

"Come on, Tobias," Theodore replied. "You know no one remembers names."

Tobias shook his head. They continued walking- Theodore and Neville stopping at every other compartment asking about their three friends. Tobias stopped as he spotted Ginny and few other girls sitting in a compartment. He didn't think twice as he opened the door, interrupting a conversation the girls were having. They all looked at him, and Tobias soon went a deep red—he didn't know what to say.

"Can we help you?" A Gryffindor second- year named Romilda Vane said. Tobias opened his mouth, but no words would fall out. And he couldn't stop staring at Ginny.

"I was uh—we were—I came here—" Tobias spluttered. The two second- year girls giggled as the dark- haired Slytherin went a deep red.

"You came here to see Ginny?" Romilda Vane asked, and Tobias watched as Ginny turned an embarrassing red as well, turning her head to look out of the window.

"No," Tobias said quickly. "I mean yes, but not to speak. Well, yes to speak—but to ask a question." He then groaned at his inability to say what he wanted to. "Ginny, have you seen your brother?"

"Which one?" Ginny asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Ron. Did he get on the train?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen him."

Tobias nodded. "Okay, well thanks. I'll um—see you at school."

"Great."

Tobias nodded again, but his feet wouldn't allow him to leave the compartment. All the girls were staring at him, and Tobias felt like a bloody fool. He was grateful when Theodore grabbed him by the collar of his robes.

"Come on, lover boy." He heard Theo say. "You can flirt with Ginny later."

Tobias turned red again as he heard the girls giggle at Theo's comment. Ginny watched as the brown- haired boy know as Theodore Nott dragged him away. She literally wanted to die right then and there.

"I think he likes you." A first year named Luna Lovegood said.

"I heard he's betrothed to Pansy Parkinson." Said Romilda Vane, her face frowning as she said Pansy's name.

"I heard he's rich." A second year named Lavender Brown said girlishly.

"Of course, he's rich," Romilda rolled her eyes. "He's a Slytherin heir. All of them are rich."

"I don't think Ginny fancies him because of his wealth." Luna said absently.

Ginny groaned. "I don't fancy him at _all._ "

"We'll it's obvious he likes you." Lavender Brown said curtly.

"Likes who?"

The four girls turned to see Pansy Parkinson standing in the doorway.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Romilda Vane crossed her arms, her nose scrunched at the Slytherin girl.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindor. "I was looking for the one named Luna." She held up a pair of yellow sneakers. "Are these yours?"

"Oh yes." Luna smiled. "One of the older years took them." She looked down at her feet, and Pansy saw that the girl was indeed barefoot. "I figured they would turn up soon."

Lavender made a face at Luna's feet, she then looked back at Pansy. She smiled innocently, but Pansy could tell the girl had an ulterior motive.

"Actually Pansy," she said. "We wanted your opinion on something."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "On what?"

Lavender looked at Ginny, who was unaware of what the older girl had planned. "Don't you think Ginny and Tobias would make a cute couple?"

Ginny almost choked. " _Lavender!_ "

Pansy felt her chest tighten. Tobias liked Ginny? A _Weasley_? She looked at Ginny—it was obvious she didn't fancy Tobias—so that was a good thing. She knew that Lavender only asked to get to her—Daphne made it known to everyone who the heirs' betrotheds were as soon as they stepped on the train. She wouldn't stop flashing her 'T &D' bracelet to any and everyone who stepped inside their compartment.

Pansy shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

Romilda Vane's mouth dropped opened. "So you have no problem with Tobias liking Ginny?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I could really care less. She- Weasel doesn't even fancy him—" She turned to face Ginny, who had turned a furious red at the conversation. "Now do you?"

"No, I _don't_." Ginny said standing up.

"Where are you going?" Lavender Brown asked.

"To another compartment." Ginny spat. "Come on Luna. Excuse me."

Pansy moved out of the way. "After you she- Weasel." She then looked back at Lavender who was glaring daggers at her. Pansy smirked.

"Oh don't be so grumpy, Brown. Nobody liked your match- making skills anyway."

Romilda Vane stood up. "You should leave, Pansy."

"Gladly." Pansy retorted. "But before I leave, Romilda, I should tell you—I overheard Dean Thomas saying he had a crush on you."

Pansy watched as Romilda's face perked up. She smiled so big, Pansy was sure her face was on the verge of splitting in half.

" _Really_?" The Gryffindor girl squealed.

Pansy smiled. "No." And with that, she left the compartment.

* * *

Tobias sat in his compartment with his head in his hands. He had done it again—he completely embarrassed himself in front of Ginny. Where was that cool and smooth Slytherin? He had no problem talking to girls—he didn't have this problem with Hermione or Pansy. What was it about Ginny that made his brain go all fuzzy?

"Anything from the Trolley, dear?"

Tobias looked up, the candy trolley was here—but even with loads of treats staring him right in the face, he didn't have the appetite for it.

"Ah yes," Theodore said cheerfully, pulling a few galleons out of his pocket. "I'll take some licorice wands- uhhhh let me get a box of every- flavored beans and some fizzing whizbees. You want anything, Neville?"

"Some exploding bon- bons."

"Bon- bons? What are you—eighty?"

"My gran eats them."

"Yeah," Theodore said bluntly. "You are eighty. What about you Tobias? Tobias?"

Theodore turned around, noticing his friend sitting with his head in his hands. Theodore sighed. _Women_.

"Is he alright?" The trolley lady asked.

"Eh, you know how women are." Theodore shrugged. "Can't live with 'em- can't live without 'em."

The trolley lady raised an eyebrow. "He's _twelve._ "

"Ah yes, young love." Theodore continued. "Let me get four chocolate frogs." He looked back at Tobias. "On second thought, make that five."

Theodore paid for the candy and sat back down in his seat. He pulled out one of the chocolate frogs and waved it under Tobias's nose.

"I'm not hungry." He heard his friend mumble.

Theodore shrugged. "Don't eat it then. But look—you may find that Morgan le Fay card you've been dying for."

"Not interested."

Theodore sighed. He had had enough of this. He pulled his leg back and kicked Tobias— _hard_ —in the shin.

" _Ow!_ What the—the bloody hell you do that for?" The dark- haired boy hissed.

"Language, Mister LeStrange."

" _Theodore._ "

Theodore frowned. "I'm sick of you throwing a pity- party for yourself. You've been doing it all summer since that day in Diagon Alley, now here you are again. Pouting—like a big baby."

Tobias sighed. He dropped his head once more. "Sorry—it's just—"

"Ginny, I know." Theodore rolled his eyes.

"She thinks I'm some creepy Slytherin bloke."

"Because you've been acting like a creepy Slytherin bloke." Theodore huffed. "Lay off. The women come slithering to the Slytherins- not the other way around."

Tobias furrowed his brow. "Who'd you hear that from?"

"Some six years." Theodore shrugged. "Amazing what you hear when you're under an invisibility cloak."

"An invisibility cloak? When did you—did you take my cloak last term?!"

"Maybe once or twice—or several. But that's not the point. The point is—girls don't like it when you're all over them like lacewing flies."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Oh, Salazar."

"What?" Tobias shot his head up, and noticed that Theo's focus was no longer on him, but on a blue figure coming closer to their compartment window.

"Is that?" He heard Neville say.

"Yes, Neville." Theodore said, his mouth opened. "Yes it is."

As the three boys watched the blue come closer, they recognized it as the oversized blue wagon Ron rode to Theodore's over the summer. They noticed that Ron was in the driver's seat, Hermione was sitting next to him, and Draco was in the back seat—his blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight.

"Theo, help me open the window." Tobias said quickly.

The two boys quickly unlocked the window, using all their strength to open it. The blue wagon slowly lowered itself down, now hovering at the height of the compartment window.

"Well, look who it is." Theodore said crossing his arms. "Enjoying your joyride? _No, no,_ we didn't want to ride. We _love_ the train."

"It's not like we wanted to be here." Ron fussed. "The barrier to platform nine and three-quarters wouldn't let us through."

"Lies, Ronald?" Theodore said, disbelief in his voice. "Is that what we're resorting to? I'm hurt."

"Hush, Theo." Snapped Tobias. "What do you mean the barrier wouldn't _let you through_?"

"It's like I said." Ron explained. "We couldn't get through. It was like somebody closed the barrier."

"I hate to spoil this reunion." Draco sneered. "But I would like to get off this abomination."

"Me as well," Hermione said feebly. "I'm afraid of heights."

"Well if Draco's getting off I want to get on." Theodore pouted. At that moment, Theodore crawled through the train window and inside the car. Tobias groaned—of course he would have to be the one to watch Theodore.

Draco and Hermione then crawled inside the compartment, and the car spat their trunks from the back and into the storage above their seats. Tobias then braced himself, hopping from the train window and into the car. He was now sitting in the backseat, while Theodore and Ron sat in the front.

"You coming, Longbottom?" Theo called out.

Neville frantically shook his head.

Theodore shrugged. "Your loss." He then pointed his finger in the northern direction. "To the castle!"

Draco, Hermione, and Neville watched as the car rose back up into the sky, now disguised by the clouds. Draco plopped down on the train seat, sighing in relief. He looked at Hermione, who was still looking out the window, biting her lip.

"You think they'll be alright?" she asked.

"Sure." Draco said half- heartedly. "I mean they may have a few broken bones—"

Hermione snapped her head at the blonde Slytherin. " _Draco!_ "

"What? I'm just saying."

* * *

To say that Dumbledore's office was flooding with owls and letters would be an understatement. Owls were flying in one after another—dropping letter after letter. Dumbledore could've sworn he'd seen some of the owls several times. He barely saw Professor McGonagall walk in through the storm of envelopes.

"Albus, what is the meaning of this?" The witch said as she swatted away a few envelopes with her wand.

Dumbledore stared at her patiently. There was an unopened letter on his desk—one of the few he was able to salvage through all the commotion.

"It seems, Minerva," The old professor began. "the muggle- born students of Hogwarts weren't able to get through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters this morning."

Professor McGonagall walked closer. "Do you think it has something to do with the withdrawals?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Maybe. I can't say for certain."

"What do the letters say?"

"Most of them are from worried parents—there's been news going around that something terrible is going to happen at Hogwarts this term."

"Did they say what? Or who they got this information from?" The witch said quickly, snatching a falling envelope and ripping it open.

"No, it seems that nobody knows. All the letters are the same."

Professor McGonagall put aside the letter. "Albus, you don't think this has something to do with Voldemort?"

"I doubt it." The old professor said casually. "Why would Lord Voldemort tell the muggle- born students that something horrible is about to happen at Hogwarts? If he had something planned, no one would know about it—especially not the muggle- borns."

"Maybe one of his followers told."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Ever since Quirrell, Voldemort has been very picky about who he tells certain information to."

"If not Voldemort or any of his followers, then who?" The witch then went silent. "You don't think—"

"Severus has already told me that the Dark Lord has chosen not to entrust him with his plans. He wants him to focus on the heirs."

"Snape could be lying—it sounds out of character for him to be warning the muggle- born students true enough, but think about it—what happen to Lily. He could be feeling guilty."

Dumbledore shook his head once more. "Severus would never lie to me, especially with something like this."

Professor McGonagall frowned. "You trust him too much, Dumbledore. You take him for granted _too much_."

"Severus wouldn't lie to me." Dumbledore pressed on. "It's about time you all learned to trust him."

The witch scoffed. " _Trust him?!_ He's the reason James and Lily Potter are dead! And you want us to trust him with our lives? With our _students'_ lives?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's getting late, Minerva, the students should be arriving soon."

Professor McGonagall stood there, appalled by Dumbledore's words about Snape. Snape couldn't be trusted—yes he had his moments where he showed his loyalty to the Order. But no one can forget whose allegiance he pledged to first. He was still Voldemort's _slave._

"You take too much for granted, Albus." She said softly. "And it will be your demise." McGonagall then left, not even bothering to swat away the rest of the envelopes that were still flying in.

As she walked out, Nymphadora Tonks walked in. Her hair was a bright pink and she had on her Auror apprenticeship robes. She carried a purple portfolio in her hand which Dumbledore knew to be the color portfolios from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department in the Ministry.

"Wotcher, Professor!" Tonks said cheerfully, before being hit in the face with an envelope.

"Good evening, Tonks. Are those the reports?"

"Yup." The young girl replied. "All four of them, just like you asked."

She handed Dumbledore the purple portfolios. The old professor adjusted his half- moon spectacles and began reading over each report one by one. He made no expression but noticed that all the reports were the same.

"All the manors were clean?" He asked slowly.

Tonks nodded. "Indeed. Every single last one. Weird isn't it?"

"Very." Dumbledore said as he continued reading. All the manors were clean—the Malfoy manor, the Zabini manor, the Nott manor, _and_ the LeStrange manor. There were no findings of any tampered muggle artifacts—not a trace of dark magic anywhere. Manors that big, they had to at least find _something._

"Any reason you wanted these four, Professor?" Tonks asked.

Dumbledore looked up, noticing that the young girl had made her hair turn green throughout his examination.

"I wanted to check something." He then closed the portfolios, handing them back to the young auror. "Thank you, Tonks."

"No problem, Professor D." She said. Tonks then left Dumbledore's office, but not before slipping on a pile of envelopes.

"I'm alright." She said, staggering towards the door. Dumbledore waved his wand, making her a clear path to the door. Tonks then walked out of his office.

Dumbledore sat there, lost in his thoughts. Something indeed was about to happen. The muggle- born students were withdrawing. The four heir houses that were raided came up clean—and the only job Lord Voldemort gave Snape was to watch over the heirs. He closed his eyes—trying to remember what Snape told him a few days ago.

 _"He said he didn't want the heirs to get caught in the crossfire."_

Why though? Dumbledore had no answer right now. But he hoped he would one soon—school was about to start, and so would the horrible things that were rumored to come.

* * *

It was nightfall when Tobias woke up. He was having a strange dream—he, Ron, and Theo were riding in a flying car to Hogwarts. As he opened his eyes, he soon realized that this wasn't a dream. He wasn't sitting on the seats of the Hogwarts Express, but indeed the backseat of a flying car—with Ron driving. Pulling himself together, he could hear the voices of his two friends.

"You know, when you're on a train, the ride doesn't really seem this long." Theodore said. Tobias noticed that Ron's rat, Scabbers, was sitting on top of his head—his beady eyes staring at him intently.

Ron laughed nervously. "Can't be much further, can it?"

"Really hard to tell, all these bloody clouds. Maybe we should check on the train?"

Tobias didn't see Ron's reaction, but felt the car tip downward through the clouds. The train was still there, but as the sky got darker, so did the train. Tobias watched as the train went around a mountain before Ron hit the accelerator for them to go back up.

But as they did so, the car began to whine and splutter.

"Ronald," Theodore said slowly. "I think your car is dying"

"It's—uh—it's probably just tired," Ron responded. "It's never been this far before…"

As the sky became darker, the whining and spluttering became louder and louder. Tobias had a strong feeling in his gut that something was going terribly wrong. He tried to ignore the way the windshield wipers were waving back and forth frantically as the Hogwarts castle slowly crept its way into their view.

"Not far," said Ron, patting the dashboard of the car. "Almost there."

But even as the three approached the castle, the car continued to shudder and it was now losing speed. Tobias felt the car slowly aim downward towards the lake. He gripped his seat and closed his eyes, hoping that Salazar could hear his cry.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" Theodore said.

"Come on," Ron said through gritted teeth. "nearly there, come on.

The engine groaned and steam came fuming out of the hood. The car wobbled some more and now the three were hovering right over the black lake.

"Come _on._ "

Theodore gripped his hair. "Oh dear Merlin, this is not how I wanted to die. I always thought it would be old age or eating too much candy-"

"Theo, shut up!" Tobias finally said. "Floor it, Ron!"

Ron nodded and slammed his foot down, but immediately wished he hadn't. There was a loud clunk and the engine died. There was a split second where all three boys made eye contact- they were doomed. They began falling out of the sky, gaining more and more speed as they fell. And to make everything worse, they were heading straight towards the castle wall.

"Ron do something!" Tobias shouted.

Ron grabbed onto the steering wheel and jerked it to the right. They missed the stone wall by just an inch. They were now soaring over the greenhouses and Hagrid's hut—the whole time the car was still falling.

Theo gripped his seat. "Now would be a great time to shut this thing off!"

"I—I—I—" Ron spluttered. "I don't know how."

"What do you mean _you don't know how_?!" Tobias roared.

"I wasn't with Fred and George when they drove back to the burrow—I only knew how to cut it on."

Theo banged his head against the dashboard. "Bloody Weasley contraptions."

Tobias groaned. "What did you cut it on with?"

Ron stopped for a moment. "My wand. Hey, you don't think—"

"JUST DO IT!"

Ron then pulled out his wand and began hitting it against the dashboard. "STOP! STOP!" But the car didn't stop, and the boys continued to fall, the grounds becoming clearer and clearer. Tobias looked up and gulped as they were heading straight for—

"LOOK OUT!" Theodore screamed.

But it was too late—the car had crashed into a tree. Theodore hit his head against the windshield and Tobias nearly flipped over into the front seat. The Slytherin opened his eyes as he heard Ron let out an agonizing groan.

"Are we dead?" Theo said hazily.

Tobias looked around. They had crashed, but they made it to the ground safely.

"By the grace of Merlin, no, we're not dead. Is everyone ok?"

"My wand" They heard Ron whimper.

Theodore and Tobias looked and felt their hearts dropped as they stared at Ron's wand. It was broken—snapped in two pieces, almost. The tip of his wand was dangling for dear life—attached to the second piece by a few splinters.

"Well it could be worse." Theodore said.

Ron looked at him as if he was mad. "How could this _possibly_ be any worse?"

Theodore shrugged. "I could name a few scenarios. There was that one time— what was that?"

At that moment, something had hit the side of the car, causing it to jerk to the side. Before anyone could say another word, the car was hit again, causing Theodore to fall into the driver's seat with Ron.

"Get off of me, Theo!"

Tobias looked out the window, noticing a branch as thick as Nagini hurdling towards them for a third blow.

"Move now!" Tobias said quickly, and the three braced themselves on the other side of the car, just seconds before the car was whacked again by the tree branch.

"What the bloody hell is that?!" Ron screamed.

"Does it matter?!" Theodore moaned. "We're going to die! By tree! We're going to be killed by a bloody _tree_!"

" _Reverse!"_ Tobias yelled, and the car lurched backwards. They watched as the tree tried it's best to strike another blow at the car, but they were soon too far to reach. The car then stopped, and the boys rolled out of it, landing on the soft damp grass.

"That was close." Ron panted. "You two alright?"

"Just peachy." Tobias grumbled. "What about you Theo? Theo?"

Tobias and Ron turned their heads to see Theo rolling around on the ground, hugging himself tightly.

"I'm alive!" He laughed gleefully, stopping to kiss the ground. "I'm alive!" He then looked up, pointing to the car. "Somebody give that hunk of metal an award!"

But the car was done with the three boys for the day. The doors snapped opened, spewing out Ron's trunk. It then revved up and drove away into the forbidden forest, leaving the two Slytherins and the Gryffindor alone—in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds. Tobias and Theodore turned their views towards Ron, who was now pale in the face.

"My dad's going to kill me."

* * *

Draco, Hermione, and Neville were now sitting in the great hall, waiting for the sorting to start. Draco had begun a conversation with Lee Jordan about last summer's qudditch stats and Neville had resorted to tending with his frog. Hermione huffed in frustration, she couldn't believe that they could just sit there and not be worried about Ron, Tobias, and Theodore. They were nowhere to be seen when the Hogwarts Express arrived, nor did they show up as the rest of the students were escorted to the castle. Anything could've happened to them—and they would never know. She huffed again.

"You keep huffing like that, Granger, and you might blow out fire." She heard Draco tease.

"Maybe I should." She snapped back. "Maybe that would bring you two to the fact that the rest of our _friends_ aren't here."

"I wouldn't actually consider Weasley a friend."

" _Draco!_ "

"Alright, alright." Draco said quickly, trying to ease her temper. "But what do you want us to do, Hermione? _Search the grounds_?"

"It was an idea." She grouched.

Draco snorted. "And then what? Get caught by Filch and have him take us to McGonagall? That'll be a laugh."

Hermione frowned. "I'm serious."

"As am I," Draco said, his voice now stern. "We can't tell anyone that Ron, Tobias, and Theodore drove a—" He looked around, trying to see if anyone was listening. "- _flying car_ to Hogwarts. They'll expel us all."

Hermione crossed her arms, huffing once more. Draco had a point, but her friends were missing. There was no telling what kind of trouble they could've gotten into—especially with Theodore.

The great hall doors soon opened, and Professor McGonagall marched through the aisles, a group of nervous first years behind her.

"Look, Longbottom." Draco said with a smirk. "Firsties. _Boo!_ " He jumped at a first year girl, causing her to squeal and bump into a small mousy- haired boy. Neville giggled while Hermione glared at him.

"What?" He said defensively, but he knew perfectly well what. "Just having some fun. I'm starting to realize how boring this all is when you have to wait."

Draco looked up at the head table. He watched as Dumbledore eyed the first years as they approached the sorting hat. Hermione looked past the old professor and locked her eyes on Gilderoy Lockhart, who was flashing his best toothy smile for the new students. She felt herself fall into a trance until Neville broke her out of it.

"Snape's missing." He whispered.

Hermione and Draco looked to the seat beside Dumbledore, noticing that their oily- haired potion's professor was indeed missing. It wasn't like a professor—especially Snape—to miss the sorting.

* * *

"Maybe he quit." Theodore said as they watched the sorting through a window on the stairs. "Seeing as he yet again failed to acquire the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again."

"I doubt it." Tobias said, watching as a small brown- haired boy get sorted into Gryffindor. "Maybe he's sick."

Ron snorted. "Or he might've been sacked. I mean, everybody hates him—"

"Or maybe," They heard a very cold and stern voice say slowly. "he's waiting to hear why you three didn't arrive on the school train."

The three boys whipped around, their eyes growing wider as they stood before Professor Snape. They couldn't tell by his facial expression if he was mad—but they knew one thing. They we're in a boatload of trouble.

"So much for staying out of trouble, huh Tobias?" Theodore laughed nervously.

Tobias nodded.

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	21. COS5: Fame

If you are what you say you are

A superstar

Then have no fear, the camera's here

And the microphone, and they wanna know

~ Superstar x Lupe Fiasco

Chapter 21: Fame

Tobias felt his blood pulsing through his veins as he, Theodore, and Ron stood in Professor Snape's office. He knew it was a bad idea when Theodore wanted to stop and watch the sorting, but there was literally no such thing as a "bad idea" when it came to him. Tobias had only planned to stay until the sorting began, but the conversation about Snape's absence erased all traces of that plan. By the time he realized they were already there too long already, the sorting had begun and Snape had caught them.

Now here they were.

"I love what you've done with the place, Professor." Theodore said—it was obvious he was nervous.

Snape said nothing as he slammed a copy of the _Evening Prophet_ on his desk. Tobias felt an invisible blow to the stomach as he read the headline: _FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES._ It was them—or maybe it was Draco, Ron, and Hermione. But nevertheless—someone had seen the flying car.

"You were _seen_!" Snape hissed, anger spewing through every word. Theodore could literally see the veins bulging from the potions master's forehead.

"You were seen—by no less than _seven_ muggles! And what's worse—you all caused some considerable damage to the Whomping Willow—a valued plant at this school!"

"That tree has a name?" said Theo.

"To be honest Professor," Ron cut in. "That tree did more damage to us than—"

" _Silence_ , Mister Weasley." Snape snapped. The man then smirked, and Ron felt his heart stop for just a moment.

"Or should I remind you that your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office? And that this is clearly a violation of the laws he works to uphold?"

Tobias turned to look at Ron—his face was completely pale. No doubt that this news would report back to the Ministry, and they would all look at Mr. Weasley. Tobias felt a pain in his chest as he thought about the consequences. Ron's dad would probably get sacked.

"It wasn't our fault that we couldn't get through the barrier!" Theodore blurted out.

Snape's smirk fell, looking intently at the brown- haired Slytherin. "What do you mean you couldn't get through the barrier?"

Tobias looked at Theodore and caught a glimpse of his "play along" face. They all knew that they couldn't tell Snape that it was actually Hermione who couldn't get through the barrier—that she was the reason Ron thought to use the flying car. Snape might bring her in for questioning—they might even expel her. They couldn't do that to Hermione—not in a million years.

Tobias turned back to face Professor Snape, preparing to justify why they were in the flying car in the first place. He was quickly interrupted as the doors reopened and Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore entered the office. Tobias felt his mouth go dry.

"What _happened_?" McGonagall said slowly.

"They were just in the middle of telling me why they couldn't get through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters." Snape replied.

Tobias saw Professor McGonagall shoot a glance at Dumbledore, but the headmaster did not make any response to her gesture. He just stood there, staring at the three boys intently—more so Theodore and Tobias.

"But—" The transfiguration teacher began, but stopped, as if she was about to say something that was classified. "What do you mean you couldn't get through the barrier?" She directed this question to the second years.

"It was like it closed." Ron explained. "We couldn't get through it, no matter how hard we tried."

Theodore nodded. "I even have a bump to prove it." He pointed to the snitch- sized bump on his forehead where he collided with the car's windshield.

Everyone was silent, taking in the boys' story.

"I can understand why Weasley wasn't able to get through the barrier." Snape began, his eyes curiously landing on the two heirs. "But why were you two on the other side of King's Cross? Mister Riddle told me that you two would be floo'ing straight to the platform."

Tobias went rigid.

"Well that's another funny story," Theodore said. "I said the wrong destination."

Professor McGonagall frowned. "You said the wrong destination?"

"Why would you do that?" Snape asked.

Theo shrugged. "Thought it would be fun. This wouldn't be my first time either, I did on the way to Diagon Alley as well. Isn't that right, Tobias?"

Tobias felt his hands begin to sweat as all three of the Professors turned to look at him, waiting for him to confirm Theo's claim. He swallowed.

"Yes," He nodded. "This isn't his first time doing something like this."

Tobias watched as Snape stared at him for a moment, before finally falling back in his chair. Professor McGonagall stood there with her arms crossed, her lips thinner than Tobias had ever seen them. And then there was Dumbledore, who didn't have a hint of emotion on his face.

"Are you sure," Dumbledore said calmly. "That there was no else with you?"

The three second- years shook their head.

"Just you three?"

They nodded again. "Just us, Professor." Tobias said.

Dumbledore didn't say anything, he looked back to Snape and McGonagall.

Theo sighed. "We'll go and get our stuff."

"What are you talking about Mister Nott?" Professor McGonagall snapped.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron.

Tobias looked at Snape and Snape could tell there was something more to the story than the boys were letting on. But he couldn't deny his duty to the Dark Lord. He had been appointed to watch the heirs—and subsequently, that meant watching over their friends as well.

"Not today, Mister Weasley." Dumbledore said, and he saw the three boys' faces perk up in surprise.

"But—" He continued. "I must impress the seriousness of what you all have done. Your head of houses will write to your families tonight," Ron gulped. "and you three shall receive detention."

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Your detentions will be decided by your head of house, as well." He turned to face Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, if you don't mind taking Mister Weasley to your office so Professor Snape can deal with his students alone."

"Certainly." She responded. "Come, Mister Weasley."

Tobias and Theodore watched as Ron left with Professor McGonagall. They smiled weakly as Ron mouthed the words "good luck." He truly must've forgotten who their head of house was. Being in Snape's office on a night like this could produce no such luck.

"I'm surprised Mister Malfoy isn't here to participate in all of this." The potions master sneered.

"Well you know Draco," Tobias said nervously. "He picks and chooses what he wants to participate in."

"It seems so." Snape replied. He waved his wand, and a plate of sandwiches and jug of pumpkin juice appeared.

"Sit. Eat."

The two Slytherins did as they were told, eating their sandwiches slowly, as if trying to savor the time they had before Snape dropped the bomb on them. Snape then stood up, grabbing his black cloak.

"I will assign your detentions at a later date."

Theodore swallowed a piece of his sandwich. "Are you going to write to our parents?"

Snape was silent for a moment.

"It's alright if you write to mine." Theodore continued. "Just don't write to Tobias's grandfather—he'll kill us if he found out we got into trouble on the first day back."

Snape sighed. "I will take that into consideration. For the time being, eat. And after you are finished, you two will return to your dormitories." The two boys nodded as Snape put on his cloak. "I must now return to the feast. And while I am gone, _behave._ "

Tobias and Theodore listened to Snape's footsteps walk towards the door. When it finally closed, Theodore let out a relieved sigh and Tobias let go of the breath he had been holding since they arrived in Snape's office.

"I thought we were done for." Said Theo. "I mean—did you see McGonagall's face?"

Tobias nodded. "I've never seen her that angry before—I thought what happened last term was bad enough."

"So did I." Theo agreed. "But you know what's strange?"

"What?"

"Even if it wasn't us who couldn't get through the barrier—we still don't know why Hermione, Draco, and Ron couldn't get through?"

Tobias chewed on his sandwich. He hadn't thought about why exactly the barrier to platform nine and three-quarters wouldn't open for them. Maybe it had something to do with Lucius Malfoy's plans—but why would Lucius want to keep the muggle- borns out, if he had plans against them?

* * *

"You know they were lying." Snape said discreetly to Dumbledore as they sat at the high table. "According to the letters, the barrier should have let all three of them through."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know they were lying. Somebody else was with them—and I suspect it was Miss Granger."

"And why would they lie for Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Two Slytherins at that?"

"It seems as if they lied as a means to protect her." Dumbledore said slowly, gathering his thoughts. "You heard Mister Weasley—they thought we were going to expel them."

Snape snorted. "A noble gesture then. But we still don't know why the barrier isn't letting any of the muggle- born students through."

"Neither do we know what terrible things are supposedly about happening at the school." McGonagall said lowly. "Well maybe some of us do."

"Distrust is not a good look on you, Minerva." Snape drawled.

Professor McGonagall scoffed. "Neither is dishonesty."

* * *

When Ron entered the common room, he came in contact with a worried and angry Hermione. She ran into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Hermione." Ron choked out. "Can't…..breathe."

"Oh sorry." She said quickly, but just as quickly smacked him on the arm, causing Ron to yell out a loud "Ow."

"What was that for?"

"Where have you _been_?" She snapped. "You weren't at the platform. You _weren't_ at the feast—you missed the sorting!"

"I know I know." Ron groaned. "By the way, Ginny—"

"She's in Gryffindor." Hermione answered his question before he even got it out. She then smacked him again.

" _Hermione_!"

"That's for changing the subject." She snapped again. "Now where were you? I was worried—about all three of you. I thought you all had _died_."

Ron sighed, flopping down on the common room couch. "We almost did." He grumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing." He said quickly. "Look, we're fine Hermione. Tobias and Theodore are in Snape's office—"

" _Snape's office?!_ " Hermione gasped. "What are they doing in there? Wait. Why aren't you in there? Ronald Weasley, if I find out you had anything—"

" _Calm down, Hermione._ " Ron laughed. "They're fine. Dumbledore said they're just going to write to our parents and we've got detention."

"That's all?"

"Mm-hm." Ron nodded. "But really—you and Malfoy should be thanking us."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "For _what_?!"

"We took the wrap for you two!" Ron exclaimed. "Theodore even lied and said it was he and Tobias that was with me when we couldn't get through the barrier this morning. We thought we were going to be expelled."

The bushy- haired witch hands dropped to her side. She looked completely flabbergasted. "Theodore and Tobias lied for _me_?"

"Yup." Ron said, taking off his shoes. "Couldn't let you get expelled, now could we?"

Hermione bit her lip, not knowing what to say. Tobias and Theodore had lied for her. Hermione Granger. A Gryffindor. Slytherins never took the blame for something they didn't do. But what was she expecting—Theo and Tobias were her friends. It was extremely thoughtful and noble of them to take the blame for her. She couldn't imagine how she would've felt if they had gotten expelled for it.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?" She was brought back to reality, not even realizing that she was caught up in a daze. She stared at Ron, who was now removing his sweater.

"I asked what's the new password. I don't particularly fancy singing with the fat lady every time I need to get inside the common room.

"Oh." Hermione replied. "It's wattlebird."

"Thanks." Ron said. He then got up from the couch, walking towards the boys' dormitories. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Night, Ron."

* * *

"Tobias is it, true?!"

"Did you all really arrive in a _flying car_?"

"What was it like?"

Tobias and Theodore walked into the Slytherin common room and were immediately surrounded by a group of excited first and second years. Draco was sitting on a couch, smiling guiltily at the other two heirs.

"Oh, Theodore!" Daphne Greengrass squealed, running through the crowd to hug Theo. "You must've been so scared!"

Theodore tried to push her off, but the girl only held on tighter. " _Daphne_. Let go of me!"

Tobias pushed through the crowd, making his way over to the black leather couch his cousin was sitting on.

"Enjoying the fame, are we?"

"What?" Draco said lazily, putting his hands behind his back. "Don't tell me you don't love it."

Tobias rolled his eyes. He kicked Draco in the leg, causing the blonde Slytherin to growl in annoyance.

"We thought we were going to be expelled!" He said in an angry whisper.

Draco frowned. "Expelled?"

"Yes, _expelled_." Tobias seethed. "Me, Theo, and Ron took the blame for you guys and here you are flaunting about like it's some kind of accomplishment."

Draco was about to say something, but thought better of it as Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, and some first-year girl walked over.

"That was bloody brilliant what you did LeStrange." Crabbe said, patting the dark- haired Slytherin on the shoulder.

Millicent nodded excitedly. " _Awesome._ "

The first year smiled. "Really cool."

Tobias didn't know what was happening—but all the anger he had towards Draco went away. He felt his mouth twitch into a smile. He shouldn't be enjoying this—seeing as they risked the exposure of the wizarding world to the muggles. But he had to admit—what they had done was pretty cool.

"Thanks." Said Tobias and the other three Slytherins walked away. He turned back towards Draco, who had a devious smirk on his face.

"What?"

"You know what." Draco said. "You like it."

Tobias sat down on the couch next to him. "I know I shouldn't but—"

"Save it, LeStrange." Draco chuckled. He looked towards a group of first-year girls, who were staring at them both. Once of the girls waved, and Draco waved back, causing the rest of them to giggle girlishly.

"I could get used to this."

Tobias nodded. He closed his eyes, trying to get himself together. Tonight had been chaotic. He almost died twice and escaped expulsion. He had had enough for one day. Or so he thought.

He soon felt a sharp tug on his robes, and before he could fathom what was happening, Tobias was standing face to face with none other than Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy—"

"Where have you _been_?" She hissed. Tobias was surprised by the seriousness in her tone.

"I—uhh—"

"You weren't on the train or at the feast. And there's been rumors going around that you showed up here in a flying _car_?" She had her hands on her hips and her eyebrows were raised.

Tobias smirked. "Well, they're not technically rumors. Ow!" Pansy had thumped him.

"You _flew_ to Hogwarts?" Pansy snapped, and Tobias could've sworn he was feeling a wrath close to Professor McGonagall's.

"Well yes, and no." Tobias smiled weakly. "I did ride the train half the way. Ow! Okay sorry, yes—I flew to Hogwarts. What's the big deal?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn't serious, was he? She looked into his green eyes—of course he was serious. She sighed heavily.

"Nothing. I was just worried that's all."

Tobias chuckled. "Caring for me now, Parkinson?"

Pansy blushed, but quickly shook her head to hide it. "Don't flatter yourself, LeStrange."

He winked. "Don't need flattery." He then walked away, returning to the couch where Draco, and now Theodore, was sitting.

She wasn't entirely sure why she had reacted that way towards Tobias. She frowned—that was a lie. She knew exactly why she had reacted that way. She had a crush on the dark- haired bloke, but he had a crush on the Weasley girl. She knew that Tobias only liked her as a friend, and she couldn't risk everyone knowing that she liked him more than that. It would be completely embarrassing—it would ruin her and Tobias's friendship.

On the other side of the common room, instead of falling back into the peaceful bliss he was just in, Tobias had to listen to Theo's rant about Daphne.

"She's bloody annoying!" Theodore complained. "I just almost _died_ ….twice! And escaped possible expulsion. Can a guy get a break?"

Tobias laughed. "What happened to letting the women slither to the Slytherins?"

"Oh, that still stands." Theo replied. "Just not this Slytherin in particular." He looked towards Draco, who was still smirking at the group of first-year girls. "That blonde one on the other hand."

Draco shrugged cockily. "What? I can't help that. Besides, half those girls over there aren't even my type."

"You have a type?" Tobias snorted, raising an eyebrow.

Draco frowned. "Of course I do. They have to be smart, daring—"

"—bushy- haired—" Theo coughed.

" _Theo!_ "

Tobias furrowed his brow. "Bushy- haired?" He then looked at Draco. "Are we talking about—"

"No!"

" _Yes_." Theodore smirked. "Our little blonde friend has a crush on the bushy- haired witch of Gryffindor."

Draco huffed. "I do not."

Theodore's smirk grew wider. "Oh really? So that wasn't you glaring daggers at Gilderoy Lockhart once you noticed Hermione making goo-goo eyes at him?"

"Goo- goo eyes?" Tobias asked.

Draco went red. "I wasn't glaring daggers."

Tobias and Theodore laughed, causing Draco to turn redder with annoyance.

"Fine!" He spat. "So I like Granger. So _what_?"

"Sooo" said Tobias, pushing Draco's shoulder lightly. "Why don't you tell her?"

"And completely embarrass myself like you did with Ginny?" Draco retorted. "No, thanks."

Theodore shook his head. "You two are hopeless."

* * *

Ron had expected the first day of school to be chaotic, but he didn't expect it to be _this_ chaotic. The houses tables were covered in everything—porridge, bacon, eggs. Ron knew what they were having for breakfast before he even got to his seat. Owls were flying in and out of the great hall and Head of Houses were walking up and down the aisle, passing out schedules. And to make the day even more chaotic, there were several students that were just now arriving at Hogwarts. There were students in traveling cloaks sitting at the table, their trunks beside them. As Ron walked to his seat, he was able to hear someone of their conversations.

"I'm telling the truth!" A third- year Ravenclaw said to a group of her friends. "The barrier to the platform wouldn't let me through! I had to floo to Dumbledore's office this morning!"

Ron raised an eyebrow as he walked passed the group of Ravenclaws. So Hermione wasn't the only one who couldn't get through the barrier yesterday. Maybe the just arriving students were muggle- borns as well. And if that was true, somebody was trying to keep the muggle- borns out of Hogwarts. But who?

"Are you just going to stand there Weasley, or are you going to sit down?"

Ron blinked and found himself standing in front of his five friends. It was Draco who had brought him out of his thoughts. He looked to see that they were all comparing schedules. Ron sat down, sliding his schedule to Theo.

"Same classes." Theodore confirmed. "Just like last term."

"I really think somebody's tampering with these schedules." Draco grumbled.

Ron looked down at his schedule. It was true—once again all his classes were with the Slytherins. They had herbology first, then transfiguration, and finally Defense Against the Dark Arts—with Gilderoy Lockhart. He wanted to let out a groan, but the current issue was still bothering him.

"Have you all noticed that some people are just now arriving at Hogwarts?" He said at a whisper.

Tobias nodded, taking a sip of his orange juice. "We've noticed."

"They're all muggle- borns, too." Theodore said.

Ron furrowed his brow. "How do you know?"

"I asked."

"It's not many of them either." Hermione added in. "I overheard some girls saying that there have been withdrawals."

Neville gulped. "You don't think—"

"It has to be." Draco interrupted. "You remember what Hermione said. Dobby visited all the muggle- born students—some of them probably got scared and left."

"But that doesn't explain why the barrier wouldn't allow the ones who didn't withdrawal through to the platform." Ron said, grabbing a plate and topping it with bacon.

Theo shrugged. "Maybe it was Dobby."

"But we would have seen him at the station." Hermione bit her lip. "Wouldn't we?"

Draco shook his head. "A house- elf's magic is different from a wizard's. They don't actually have to be there to conduct the magic."

"It would make sense." Tobias agreed. "If Dobby was warning all the muggle- borns, he would've probably tried to stop them from getting to Hogwarts."

Ron pondered this thought, but something still didn't make sense. "But that doesn't explain why me _and_ Malfoy weren't able to get through the barrier. We're both purebloods."

The six all looked at each other, trying to find a reason to Ron's statement. Their thoughts were interrupted as a band of owls—at least a hundred—came rushing through the great hall. They all carried packages and letters, dropping them in front of their respective owners. A big, lumpy package fell in front of Neville and a red envelope dropped in front of Theo. Next, a giant gray owl fell into Tobias's jug of orange juice, causing juice and feathers to spray everywhere.

" _Errol!_ " Ron said through gritted teeth. He pulled the bird out of the juice jug, untying the letter from its leg. He felt his heart drop as he stared at the red envelope.

"First the rat, now the owl," Draco scowled. "You Weasleys need to keep your bloody pets in line."

But Ron wasn't listening—his eyes glued to the envelope in front of him. He felt all the color drain from his face—he was frozen, he felt dizzy. He felt like he was in a trance—everyone's words echoing around him. He turned his head to face Theo, who also had the same expression on his face.

They had received howlers.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Theodore swallowed. "We're about to have our arses chewed out, that's what." He said dryly.

"What?"

"We've gotten howlers." Ron said faintly.

Draco leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "This should be good."

Hermione still seemed confused. "What's a howler?"

"You'll soon find out." Neville said a timid whisper. "You guys better open it—it'll be worse if you don't."

Ron and Theodore looked at each other—both equally petrified.

"We'll open them together, okay?" Ron said.

Theodore nodded. "Yeah, together."

"Any day now would be nice." Draco snapped. "It's not like it will last long. How bad can it be anyway?"

Draco spoke too soon as Theodore and Ron slit open their envelopes at the same time. Neville and Tobias took the proper precautions and put their fingers in their ears. Hermione wasn't sure what to do, and Draco's smirked soon fell away as both the voices of Mrs. Weasley and Madam Nott filled the room.

 _"RONALD WEASLEY—"_

 _"THEODORE DION NOTT—"_

The great hall went silent. Ron never knew his mother could yell so loudly—her voice shaking the forks and spoons on the table. Each word echoed through the great hall—everyone turned in their seats to see who had received the howler. Ron sank slowly in his seat and Theodore had crawled under the table.

 _"HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR? I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED!"_

 _"YOU FLEW A CAR TO HOGWARTS?! FIRST DIAGON ALLEY, NOW THIS!"_

 _"YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!"_

 _"TOBIAS'S GRANDFATHER SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF TROUBLE AND NOW YOU'RE ON THE FRONT PAGE OF THE EVENING PROPHET!"_

 _"IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE—"_

 _"—IF YOU EVEN BREATHE AT THE WRONG MOMENT—"_

 _"WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"_

The howlers then fell silent, burning into flames and curling up into a burnt, crumpled ball. There were a few laughs from other houses and then the great hall was bustling with chatter once more.

"Is it over?" Theodore said feebly as he gradually rose from under the table.

Ron nodded. "It's over, mate."

"Bloody hell." Draco said stunned. "Theo, I never knew your mother could yell like that."

Theodore laughed faintly. "It's just one of my many talents."

"You should keep that one hidden." Tobias said, cleaning out his ear. Neville nodded in agreement as he did the same.

Hermione looked absolutely guilt- stricken. Theodore had received a howler, and he wasn't even the reason the car had been used in the first place. She couldn't even concentrate on her book—she didn't even feel her face turning pale.

"Uh Hermione," Theodore said. "Your face is doing that pale thing again."

"This is all my fault." She croaked.

"Granger." Draco said sternly.

"This isn't your fault." Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm the reason you had to use the car—I'm the reason Ron's dad is facing an inquiry at work. Theodore got a howler and he wasn't even fully involved!"

Ron sighed. "It's alright, Hermione. Well- not exactly—"

"Really Weasley?" Draco sneered.

Theodore sighed as well. "What Ronald is trying to say is, this isn't your fault. We couldn't let you get in trouble—so we did what we had to do. It's over now, okay?"

"Okay." Hermione said. There were threatening tears in her eyes, but she managed to pull herself together.

The six then made their way to the greenhouses for Herbology. They noticed that the whole class was waiting outside the greenhouse, waiting for Professor Sprout. As the six joined the rest of the class, they were able to see Professor Sprout walking across the lawn—Gilderoy Lockhart at her side.

"Don't tell me he teaches Herbology too." Draco grumbled.

Tobias noticed that Professor's sprouts arms were covered in bandages and with a quick look to the other side of the field, he was able to see the cause of her bandages. The Whomping Willow was sitting in the distance, many of its branches in slings.

"Now honestly," Theodore whispered. "That bloody tree did more damage to us than we did it." He scoffed. " _Bandages._ "

As professor sprout walked closer, the six could tell she was not enjoying the company of Lockhart. Her face was tight, a look of annoyance on her face. No doubt that the cause of her annoyance was Lockhart himself. He had that toothy grin of his on his face as he walked closer to the students.

"Sorry, we're late!" He beamed. "I was just showing Professor Sprout the correct way to doctor a Whomping Willow. Very fragile plants—must be handled with serious care. But don't go running off with the idea that I'm better than Herbology than she is!"

"Oh trust me," Theo said under his breath. "We won't."

Professor Sprout pulled out her wand, unlocking the third greenhouse. "We'll be using greenhouse three today, everyone. Please find you a spot—"

"Actually Pomona," Lockhart said, and the students could've sworn they heard the herbology professor curse under her breath. "I was wondering if I could have a quick chat with Tobias and Theodore?" But before Professor Sprout could answer, Lockhart had already swung his arms around the two Slytherin boys, leading them away from the greenhouse.

"Boys. Boys. Boys." He shook his head. "Oh you poor boys."

Theodore removed himself from Lockhart's grip. "What are you on about?"

Lockhart the smiled. "I heard you know—about your little flying car stunt, and I have come to apologize."

It was then Tobias's turn to release himself from Lockhart. "Apologize?"

"Of course! It was my fault!"

Theodore looked at Tobias, who was completely confused about what Lockhart was going on about. What happened with the car had absolutely nothing to do with Lockhart. Yet here he was, apologizing about it.

"I gave you all a taste of publicity. The fame—the _bug_." Lockhart went on. "I gave you all the front page of the Daily Prophet and you were thirsty for more."

Theodore's mouth fell opened. " _Are you mad_?!"

Tobias shook his head. "No, professor, that isn't exactly what we—"

"Tobias, Tobias, Tobias." Said Lockhart, shaking his head once more. "It's alright. _I understand._ It's completely natural to want a bit more once you've gotten a taste for it. And it's my fault—I should've known it would have gone to your heads."

"Somebody needs to check the inside of yours." Theodore mumbled.

"But _boys_ , you all can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. You'll have plenty time for that when you get older. Just look at me." He then flashed another toothy smile, and Theodore snorted.

"That's really…. Nice, Professor Lockhart." Tobias said quickly. "But we have to be going. We have class."

"Of course! Of course!" Lockhart said back. "I was probably about to bore you with some facts you already knew, seeing as you've read my books. Classics, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Theodore sneered sarcastically. "You should receive an award."

Lockhart smiled even bigger, and Tobias rolled his eyes. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"I was joking."

Lockhart then stalked away, saying something about writing to Flourish and Blotts about a book award. Tobias and Theodore then slipped inside the greenhouse. They found Professor Sprout standing behind a wood bench with twenty or so earmuffs lying on top of it. The two boys has just reached their spot beside Draco when she began speaking.

"Today," she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "We will be potting Mandrakes. Now who can tell me what the properties of a Mandrake are?"

No one had time to ponder the question as Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative." She said knowingly. Tobias smirked as she said exactly what was written in their Herbology textbook. Typical Hermione.

"It is used to return people who have been transfigured to their normal state."

"Excellent!" Professor Sprout said cheerfully. "Ten points to Gryffindor." She then waved her wand, and a row of deep trays appeared in front of the students. Tobias looked down and noticed the purple-lish green plants growing in the rows.

"The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It can also be very dangerous—can anybody tell me why?"

As everyone one was expecting Hermione's hand to shoot up again, they were shocked to see Neville's hand shoot up first. Tobias smiled and Theodore held up a fist in encouragement.

"The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it." He said confidently

"Precisely," the professor nodded. "Another ten points. Now, in front of you are Mandrakes, but this batch is still very young."

Theodore looked at his Mandrake. "Aw look at it Tobias. I'm going to name you Dalton."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Dalton?"

Theodore shrugged. "First thing that came to mind."

Professor Sprout then gestured to the bench in front of her. "Everyone take a pair of earmuffs."

At heard words, everyone hurried to the front, hoping to grab a pair of ear muffs that weren't fluffy and pink. When everyone returned to their seat, there were sounds of students out of breath and sounds of others scowling as they were now wearing pink earmuffs. Theodore had a pair, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Once you've had your hair dyed pink, it's not so bad." He said smiling.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely covered._ " Professor Sprout instructed. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give you a thumbs up. Now, earmuffs _on._ "

Tobias pulled on his earmuffs, and was amazed by he was immediately shut off from all the sounds in the room. He could see Theodore yelling at Draco, and Draco shaking his head smirking—it was obvious that Theo was testing out the earmuffs. The Slytherin then turned his view back to his professor, who was now arm deep in one of the rows, pulling out one of the Mandrakes.

Tobias couldn't hear anyone's reaction as Professor Sprout pulled out a small, muddy and extremely ugly looking baby out of the dirt. There were leaves growing out of his head, and Tobias could've sworn he saw Draco mouthed "bloody disgusting. Professor Sprout then summoned a large pot plant from a nearby table and shoved the young Mandrake inside of it. She quickly covered it with dirt, burying it until its leaves were the only thing visible. Once she was finished, she gave everyone the thumbs up.

Everyone took their earmuffs off, and were startled by Theodore's voice.

"Professor!" He shouted, pointing to something on the ground. "Dalton killed Neville!"

Everyone gathered around Theodore to find Neville lying on the ground—he had on his earmuffs, but he was knocked out cold. Professor Sprout pushed through the crowd, tutting at the sight of the dumpy Gryffindor.

"It seems as if Mister Longbottom was neglecting his earmuffs." She pointed to a very small opening where part of Neville's ear wasn't covered. "However, as our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet."

" _But._ They can knock you out for several hours—an example being Mister Longbottom here." She then waved her wand and Neville's body hovered above the ground.

"While I take Mister Longbottom to the hospital wing, you all will extract and plant your Mandrakes in the plant pots under your table. Make sure that your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to leave."

With that being said, she left, leaving the students alone to work.

The remaining five gathered at one of the tables, seeing as everyone had split off to stand next to their friends. They were joined by Pansy, who greeted everyone in her normal voice, but gave Tobias a tight "Hello." Draco and Theodore smirked as Tobias went red—Pansy was still upset with him from yesterday.

* * *

Transfiguration was hectic as ever—everyone was tired and sore from the Mandrakes. Tobias literally had to wrestle with his to get it inside the pot. Theodore stared blankly at the chalkboard—it was as if he had forgotten everything from first year. Today's assignment was to transfigure small animals into everyday items.

Their first task was turning a beetle into a button.

Tobias, Draco, and Hermione did theirs with no problem—earning their houses ten points each. Theodore became distracted by the beetle. He had named it Francis and became entranced by the way it scurried across his table when he aimed his wand at it. Instead of turning Francis into a button, he snuck the beetle into his pocket and asked McGonagall for another one—saying that he lost his.

Neville successfully turned his beetle into a button, but shrieked as his button began to crawl. Everyone laughed at Neville's half- beetle, half button. McGonagall sighed as she fixed Neville's mistake, turning his creation into the instructed button.

Ron's attempt had to be the worse. That morning he had patched up his wand with Spellotape, hoping that his wand would still be okay to use. But that theory proved wrong as it kept crackling and sparking at random moments. He pointed his wand at the beetle and mutter the spell, only to be surrounded by a cloud of grey smoke that smelled like rotten eggs. As he tried to find a way to clear the smoke, he accidently squashed his bug, receiving a look worse than Theodore did when he went to ask McGonagall for another one.

At lunch, the topic of discussion was Ron's wand. He couldn't perform with it—the wand was now unpredictable, making it dangerous. They had to admit that they were all lucky for the results that happened in Transfiguration.

"Why don't you ask for another one, Weasley?" Draco suggested. "I'm pretty sure there are some old wands lying around in box somewhere."

Theodore nodded, watching as Francis crawled up his arm. "Yeah, just write to your parents. I'm sure they'll send you one."

Ron scoffed. "And get another Howler back? I'll pass." He was wrapping his wand in more Spellotape.

"Ron, putting more tape on it isn't going to fix it." Tobias said.

The Weasley boy groaned. "I know." He then began banging his wand on the table. "Stupid—useless—thing—"

As he banged it against the table, a shot of green sparks emitted from the tip of his wand. Tobias moved just in time as the sparks missed him by an inch and hit a fifth year Hufflepuff boy in the back.

"Oi!" The boy screamed, turning around to face the now pale Ron.

"Sorry." He said, putting on a nervous smile.

"He'll be fine." Theodore waved him off. "In other news, what class do we have next?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Hermione said immediately, not even looking up from her schedule.

Draco looked over at here schedule and frowned. "Granger?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you have all of Lockhart's lessons outlined with little hearts?"

Hermione quickly flipped her schedule over, she blushed furiously as the blonde Slytherin continued to stare at her. She bit her lip trying to find the right thing to say, and was saved as a curly- haired Hufflepuff walked to their table.

"Tobias." He said brightly, sticking out his hand. "I don't think we've been properly introduced."

Tobias looked at him, his eyebrow raised. "And you are?"

"Justin Finch- Fletchley." He said quickly, his hand still stuck out for Tobias to take.

"Tobias LeStrange."

Justin then turned towards the rest of the table. "And you're Ron Weasley, you're Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom." He smiled a bit bigger when he came to Hermione. "You of course are Hermione Granger—always top in everything." He then turned to Draco. "And you are—"

"Draco _Lucius_ Malfoy." Draco said slowly, standing up to shake Justin's hand. By the way Justin winced slightly, Tobias could tell that Draco was holding his hand tighter than he should have.

"The second of the heirs and Slytherin Prince." He said casually, there was not a sign of strain in his voice. He let go of Justin's hand, causing the boy to mouth the word "ouch" as he shook his hand frantically, as if trying to regain the feeling in his fingers.

"Right." The boy said, he then turned back to Tobias. "I saw Lockhart talking to you. That guy's really something, isn't he?"

Tobias sighed. He had really been hoping nobody saw the exchange they had with the new Defense Against the Arts teacher. "You must be a fan?"

Justin nodded eagerly. "One of many! I mean how can you not be—his books? I would have died had I been cornered in a telephone booth by a _werewolf_ —and look at Lockhart, he lived to tell the story! _Fantastic_."

"Why would a werewolf be prowling around a telephone booth?" Theodore asked.

"I don't know." Justin said. "Lockhart didn't put it in the book."

"Of course he didn't." Theodore said under his breath.

"Well, I'll see you guys around. And Granger, maybe we can share notes sometime."

"Absolutely not." Draco said quickly, and by the look on Justin's face as he made eye contact with the blonde Slytherin—his message got across.

"Of course. Of course." Justin said quickly. "You already have a study group. Completely forgot."

Theodore chuckled. "Oh Justin."

As the Hufflepuff boy walked away, Hermione took no time to round on Draco.

"What was that about?" She snapped.

Draco took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Draco!" She hissed. "That little— _stunt_ —with Justin."

Draco shrugged. "It's not my fault he has bad memory." The rest of the boys laughed at that.

Hermione crossed her arms. "That isn't funny."

"It kind of is, Hermione." Ron said through his laughter.

There was then a flash of light, and the six felt as if they had lost their sight.

Theodore was blinking frantically. "I think I've just gone blind."

"Perfect, just perfect." They heard a tiny voice say. The six then came in contact with a small mousy- haired boy holding a red camera. Tobias remembered seeing the boy get sorted into Gryffindor last night.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Ron said, wiping his eyes. "You nearly took our eyes out."

"Sorry." The boy said quickly, he held out his hand. "I'm Colin Creevy. I'm in Gryffindor."

"That seems obvious." Draco snorted, looking at the Gryffindor house tie hanging down the boy's shirt.

"Okay," Ron said irritably. "But what are you doing?"

"Oh," Colin said, his voice never losing its pep. "I took a picture." He handed Ron a flimsy piece of paper. Everyone gathered around him, wanting to see the picture that Colin took.

"Aw man," Theodore whined. "My eyes were closed."

"Nevermind _you_." Draco laughed. "Look at Weasley."

"What do we have here?" They heard a voice sneer.

The six and Colin looked up to see Blaise standing before them, Crabbe and Goyle at his side. He walked closer, that nasty smirk on his face.

"Still hanging with the mutt, are we Draco?" He laughed. "And Weasley? You have taken on a new level of low."

"Shut it, Zabini." Draco said lowly. He then smirked. "Or should we take you back to the forest?"

Zabini stood shocked for a moment, but then regained his composure. He then turned to Colin. "Taking pictures are we, Creevy?"

Colin nodded. "I wanted Tobias and the rest to sign it."

Blaise frowned. "Signing photos are we now, LeStrange? First the Daily Prophet, then the flying car stunt, next your little heart to heart with Gilderoy Lockhart—now you're _signing photos_?!" Tobias gritted his teeth as Blaise's voice grew louder and louder, echoing around the great hall.

Blaise scoffed. "Being the top heir must have its perks. Seeing as you can't even eat without someone hanging all over you."

"You're just jealous." Colin squeaked furiously. "I've heard about you, Blaise Zabini. You're the last of the heirs—all because Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to be one!"

Draco, Theodore, and Tobias laughed at this, while Blaise face turned into a something that reminded them of Fluffy. His jaw was clenched and everyone could see the vein emerging from his temple.

" _Jealous?"_ He spat, and now everyone was listening.

Theodore tucked his beetle away. "This is not for faint ears Francis."

"Jealous _of what?!_ Three pathetic excuses for heirs! Two of them who rarely even see their own parents—and it _shows._ No real pureblood heir would be caught dead around a bushy- haired freak, a blood- traitor, and an oaf like Longbottom."

At that moment Draco and Ron stood up from the table, their wands aimed at Zabini. Zabini smiled again, seeing as he successfully hit a nerve.

"Be careful Weasley," He taunted. "Don't want to cause any more trouble, do you? I heard your father might be getting the sack from the Ministry."

Ron growled. "Eat Slugs, Zabini."

Blaise laughed. "I'm sure they would taste better than the slop you eat at home."

Ron then lunged for Blaise, but Theodore grabbed him just in time. Ron struggled in Theo's arms, trying to break free, but Theo had a strong grip on him.

"Easy there, tiger." Theodore whispered trying to calm the Gryffindor down.

"What's all this, what's all this?" said a voice.

The second years and Colin turned to see Lockhart striding towards their table. He looked at the picture that was now in Hermione's hands and a quill in Colin's. He then smiled.

"I should have known. Signing photos, Tobias? You should've told me."

"Is he serious right now?" Ron said through gritted teeth.

Theodore nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Well come on then, Mister Creevy." Lockhart said as he grabbing Tobias. "A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll _both_ sign it. How about that Colin?"

Colin nodded eagerly as he fumbled with his camera. He quickly took the picture and hurried off to class as the school bell rung.

Blaise smirked. "See you around, oh chosen one." He then walked away, Crabbe and Goyle sniggering behind him.

The six stood there, Theodore still holding on to Ron.

"You can let go of me now, Theo." Ron grumbled, annoyed.

Theo shook his head. "Nope, not gonna happen."

Ron huffed in frustration as he and Theodore had to walk to class stuck together. The rest soon followed, pushing through the crowd of students that had gathered around their table.

 **Author's Note: If you haven't noticed already, I changed the chapter names so you all could see which chapters belonged to which book. SS is of course Sorceror's Stone and COS is Chamber of Secrets. So Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	22. COS6: Zabini's Games

Round and round we go

Unlock and unload

I'll remote control

Her mind, her mind

~ Mind Control x Big K.R.I.T

Chapter 22: Zabini's Games

The second year Gryffindors and Slytherins were just sitting down in their seats as Lockhart exited his office. The classroom was much different than when Quirrell taught last term. Tobias felt a sick feeling in his stomach, seeing as he was the reason Professor Quirrell was no longer teaching at Hogwarts. The room was now covered in thousands of portraits of Gilderoy Lockhart. There were portraits of all sizes, each one smiling and waving at the students.

"Narcissistic much?" Draco said, looking at the many Lockharts hanging from the wall.

He cast a quick look at Hermione, who of course, was sitting front row. Draco frowned as he had an odd feeling in his stomach that his crush hadn't chosen that seat to be her usual studious self. She looked completely bonkers as Professor Lockhart made his way down the steps—she looked at him the same way she did at Flourish and Blotts. Draco felt a fire growing in the pit of his stomach—Hermione fancied Lockhart.

"My name is Gilderoy Eugene Lockhart. But I'm sure you all knew that." He laughed heartily. As he descended down the steps, he pointed to each one of the huge portraits on the wall. "Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five- time winner of _Witch's Weekly's_ Most- Charming- Smile Award." He smiled. "But hear ye, I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at it!"

A few of the second year girls, including Hermione, laughed at his joke, but the boys looked completely disinterested. Professor Lockhart looked to Tobias for some moral support, and the dark-haired Slytherin had no choice but to give him a small smile. The professor then made his way to the front of the room, sitting on top of his desk.

"Now I see you've all bought a complete set of my books—well done."

"Well, it wasn't like we had a choice." Theodore said under his breath. Class had just begun and Theo had already resorted to playing with Francis instead of paying attention.

"I thought we'd start today with a little quiz." Lockhart said. He laughed as he heard some of the class groan. "Now, now—there's nothing to worry about. This quiz is just to check how well you've read my books."

"Well, this is just wonderful." Draco sneered. "I'm going to fail my first quiz."

Theodore sighed. "You just had to kill Quirrell, huh Tobias?"

Tobias punched the boy in his arm. "Shut up, Theo." He growled.

Professor Lockhart began walking around the room, passing out the quiz papers. Once Tobias received his, he looked down at the questions:

 _1._ _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

 _2._ _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

"When is Gilderoy's Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?" Draco whispered irritably.

Theodore shook his head. "Just had to kill him, huh?"

 _"Theo._ "

"Alright." Lockhart said aloud to the class. "You have thirty minutes—start— _now_!"

Hermione quickly opened her quiz—she smirked as she knew every answer. She was finished in at least five minutes, proudly setting her quill down when she was finished. She noticed that Ron had resorted to drawing pictures on his quiz and that Neville was trying his best to at least guess the answers.

Tobias sat there—he had become content with failing his first quiz. He didn't know any of the answers, and quite frankly, he didn't care to find out any of them. That would be something for Zabini to go on about—the famous Tobias LeStrange knows everything about his new best buddy, Gilderoy Lockhart.

Theodore laid his head down on the table as he watched Francis crawl over his quiz. If he knew there would've been a quiz on the book—he would've asked Hermione to give him a run down. But it was too late now—all he could do was wait until the thirty minutes were up.

Draco was carefully folding his quiz into a paper airplane, but he couldn't necessarily concentrate. He kept shooting glances at Hermione, who was, once again, staring at Lockhart with those "goo goo eyes" Theodore was talking about. The fire in his stomach burned once again and Draco unconsciously gripped his paper airplane too hard, causing one of the wings to become bent.

"You alright there, Draco?" Tobias whispered.

Draco looked down, noticing his damage. He cursed under his breath before shoving the now broken airplane to the side.

"I'm fine." He grumbled.

Thirty minutes later, Lockhart took up the quizzes. He sat down in his desk, flipping through each and every one of them. He tutted.

"Hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. It was the first page in _Year with the Yeti_. And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ more clearly—my ideal birthday gift was on page two-hundred and ninety-two."

"But _Miss Hermione Granger_ ," He continued and Hermione jumped when she heard him mention his name. She was now smiling like a complete idiot—or at least that's what Draco thought.

"She knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair- care potions—"

"-Of course she did-" Draco said through gritted teeth. Theodore and Tobias began sniggering under their robes, but Draco was too caught up in Gilderoy's show that he wasn't paying attention.

"-good girl! In fact—" Professor Lockhart stood up, scanning the class. "Where is Miss Granger?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, and Draco had to suppress a groan.

"Excellent!" Lockhart said cheerfully. "Full marks and ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione could hardly contain her excitement. Gilderoy Lockhart— _the_ Gilderoy Lockhart—just gave her full marks and house points. She didn't care what anybody else thought—he was absolutely amazing.

There was loud clang and the students' attentions were diverted to a large covered cage on Lockhart's desk.

"I bet you ten galleons it's a dragon." Theodore whispered.

Tobias snorted. "Deal."

"And now to business!" Lockhart said. "Now I must warn you. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall on you whilst I am here."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, right."

"All I ask is that you remain calm." Lockhart then moved his hand slowly to the cloth covering the cage. Everyone held their breath, awaiting the revealing of creature that was hidden in the cage.

"I must ask you not to scream." He said slowly. The suspense was now killing everyone. "It might provoke them."

"Oh yeah," Theodore said with a smirk. "It's a dragon."

Professor Lockhart then ripped off the cover. In the cage were several pixies—they were electric blue and had to be at least eight inches high. Their faces were pointed and their voices were so high that Draco had to cover his hears to prevent from going deaf.

" _Pixies?_ " He snarled.

Tobias began laughing as Theodore's mouth dropped open. "I think you owe me ten galleons."

"Yes, Mister Malfoy." Lockhart confirmed. " _Freshly caught Cornish Pixies_."

Hermione raised her hand. "How did you collect so many, Professor?"

The blonde Slytherin rolled his eyes. " _How did you collect so many, Professor?_ " He mocked in a girlish voice.

"Well, that's an intriguing story, Miss Granger." Lockhart beamed. "I caught them during my trip to Norway—I was researching a rare species of hippogriff there."

Theodore raised his hand. "Uh, Gilderoy?"

Lockhart snapped his head up, smiling brightly as he was being acknowledged by one of the heirs. "Yes, my boy?"

"These pixies—well—my mother has some—and they aren't _dangerous._ " Theodore said. "Doesn't that defeat the purpose of this class?"

Lockhart waved a finger. "Don't be so sure, Mister Nott. Devilish tricky little blighters they can be."

Tobias looked back at the cage, and for once actually agreed with Lockhart. They didn't seem so friendly—the way they were rattling the cage and yanking the bars. Some of them were even making faces at the nearby students.

"Alright then." Lockhart said, he put his wand to the lock on the cage. "Let's see what you make of them."

The cage opened and it was chaos from there. The pixies darted in every direction possible, getting into whatever trouble they could find. Two have them went after Neville, having a tug-of-war with Ron and Hermione as they tried to keep him down but it was no use. The pixies flew away with their dumpy friend. Many of them began to trash the room, throwing ink bottles and books at the students—some even removed some of Professor Lockhart's pictures off the wall.

"Hey!" The professor called out. "You put that down! _Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_ " But his spell did nothing. Putting on a nervous grin, he turned to the students.

"Come on now—round them up, round them up, they're only pixies!"

"Then you do it." Draco growled. He and Tobias had resulted to smacking the pixies with their books. Theodore had been taken a few moments before, but instead of calling for help—Theo seemed to be enjoying his kidnapping.

"Danananananananananaaaa….BATMAN!" Theodore yelled through the classroom as the pixies carried him through the air. "Oh come on Longbottom, it isn't that bad."

Neville had been whimpering since he was taken into the air. He was afraid that at any moment Lockhart would find the right spell and the pixies would drop him. Nobody knew, but it was embarrassing being in the hospital wing every other day—Madam Pomfrey even put his name on one of the beds.

The bell rang and everyone ran out of the classroom, except for Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Tobias. Neville and Theodore really didn't have a choice seeing as they were still in there air. Lockhart straightened up—he had been hiding under his desk—and noticed the remaining six in the room.

"Well, I'll ask you all to nip the rest of them back into their cage." He then walked quickly back up the steps to his office, closing the door behind him.

"Can you _believe_ him?" Ron roared. He then scowled as one of the pixies bit his ear.

" _Immobulus_." Hermione said, and the pixies froze in their spots. "He just wants to give us some hands- on experience."

" _Hands-on?_ " Draco snapped. This was enough—he was already on edge with Hermione's little crush on Lockhart, but now she was defending him? "He didn't have a bloody clue what he was doing, Granger!"

Theodore nodded. "I'm pretty sure _peskipiksi pesternomi_ isn't a real spell."

"Rubbish," Hermione said, stuffing some of the pixies back in their cage. "You've read his books—"

"—actually—" Theodore said.

"Look at all those amazing things he's done—"

"— _says_ he's done—" Draco hissed.

Hermione turned around, her arms crossed over her chest. "Don't be jealous, Malfoy."

Draco laughed darkly. " _Jealous_?" He then grabbed his book bag, pushing through Tobias and Ron. "If you need me I'll be in the library."

No one said anything as they watched Draco leave. Hermione huffed and returned back to putting the pixies inside their cage. Ron went over to Neville, trying to get him down while muttering about Lockhart. Tobias looked up, noticing Theo smiling at him.

"So are you going to get me down or…?"

* * *

If you could never tell when Draco Malfoy was furious, you could tell now. He stormed down the hallway as he walked to the library. He bumped into any and every one, growling at anyone who tried to confront him about it. His face was so red, he felt like he was about to explode. His insides felt as if they were literally on fire and his fists were clenched so tight he knew he would be expecting some marks on his palm soon.

As he approached the library, he cursed himself. This was Granger's spot—and it was Granger he was trying to avoid.

He shook his head, pushing through the doors anyway. Hermione had called him jealous— _of Lockhart_. What was to be jealous of? The guy was a fake—a phony. You didn't have to be an expert in dark magic to know that he didn't have a single clue about those pixies in class today. Draco was pretty sure he didn't even catch them himself.

His silent rant continued as he found a seat in the back of the library. Even if Granger did come, she wouldn't be able to see him. He pulled out his transfiguration book, hoping to ease his nerves with McGonagall's essay on insect transformations.

He growled as he heard footsteps approach him.

"Go away." He said lowly.

"I should be the one saying that Malfoy," He heard a voice drawl. "Seeing as you're in my seat."

Draco looked up and frowned as Blaise Zabini stood in front of him. He looked around the boy, looking to see if anybody was with him.

"Where are you cronies, dumb and dumber?"

Zabini chuckled, as he took a seat. "Occupied for the moment. The library isn't really the place for them—wouldn't you agree, Draco?"

Draco didn't respond, turning back to his work. But even as he tried to ignore Zabini, he could feel the boy's brown eyes staring at him.

"Liking the view, Zabini?" He asked.

Zabini chuckled. "Always the charmer. But the real question is: why is Draco Malfoy in the library— _alone_?"

"Wanted some peace." Draco said as if it was the obvious answer.

"Yes, yes." Zabini agreed. "But no Granger? Not even LeStrange is here."

"What's your point?"

"You're upset about something." Zabini said. "Why else would you come into _Granger's_ territory alone? Did you two have a fight? Did you tell her about your little crush?"

Draco snapped his head up at the word crush. Zabini knew—of course he knew. Sneaky little git.

"If you tell _anyone_ —" Draco said lowly.

Zabini laughed. "Oh, I'm not going to be telling anyone, Malfoy. But it's really pathetic—second of the heirs and you can't even get the mudblood to like you."

" _Don't call her that._ "

"Well that's what she is, isn't she?" Zabini continued. "And the way she flaunts over that idiot _Lockhart_."

Draco felt his blood boil again as Zabini mention Lockhart.

"In my opinion, she doesn't deserve you, Draco." Zabini shrugged. "We're _heirs_ , we deserve the best—wouldn't you agree?"

Draco stopped writing. Zabini was right—he was an heir. The Malfoy heir. He could get whatever he wanted—he deserved the best. If Hermione was too caught up in Lockhart to see that, then that was her loss.

Draco chuckled darkly. "Yeah you're right."

"I always am, Malfoy." Zabini smirked.

* * *

The next few days Tobias had to play "Dodge the Lockhart." He couldn't afford running into him again. He had been very careful to avoid any extra confrontations—he was working double time to even keep Theo out of trouble. But as hard as it was to keep Theo in line, it was just as hard to avoid Colin Creevy—the bloody first year had memorized his schedule. Tobias knew it was Theodore who gave him a copy of his schedule, but when he confronted the Slytherin about it—Theodore smiled innocently saying the same thing—"I don't know what you're talking about."

Pansy was still upset with him about the flying car incident, but she easing up on him. Her greetings were as short as they used to be, but Tobias could still tell that the black- haired witch was furious about what happened.

Ron's wand was still malfunctioning. The worse performance yet was when his wand flew out of his hand in charms, hitting Professor Flitwick in the eye. The charms professor now had a huge green boil between his eyes. It wouldn't have been so bad if Theo had not asked to touch it.

Draco had been acting strange since the incident in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The biggest change was that he wasn't following Hermione around like he was a dog anymore. They barely talked now, and Draco didn't sit by her in the great hall. If Hermione wasn't so caught up in Lockhart, she would have noticed that her dinner buddy was now Neville.

Even as Draco tried to ignore the fact that Hermione didn't even notice his change in behavior, he couldn't help the boiling in his veins every time he caught her looking at Lockhart. He felt his jaw clench every time she pulled out one of his books to read. But he didn't acknowledge it. Malfoy's deserved the best—not little groupie mudbloods.

Neville had successfully made throughout the rest of the week without a trip to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had even given him a treat for his accomplishment. The only thing he didn't like about this week was the new seating arrangement. He usually sat by Draco, but now Draco was no longer sitting in his usual spot and Neville had to sit by Hermione. Not that he had a problem with sitting by his fellow Gryffindor classmate—it was just that she wouldn't stop talking about Gilderoy Lockhart. Neville had been over the wizard superstar ever since that stunt with the pixies.

Speaking of Draco's strange behavior, Ron had been acting even stranger. Hermione had told Tobias about Ron's suspicions about Draco being a part of his father's plans and just as she did, Tobias laughed his accusations off. But as Draco's behavior worsened, so did Ron's accusations.

"One day he's all over you, and now he barely knows you're there!" He complained. They were all—except Draco—sitting in the library.

Hermione ignored him, and for the first time this week, Tobias could actually see that Draco's new behavior was affecting her.

"I'm telling you, Tobias," Ron went on. "I know he's your cousin and all, but something's up."

Tobias shook his head. "Draco wouldn't hurt Hermione." The Slytherin said it more for Hermione to hear than Ron, but even then—the witch was silent and Ron scoffed.

"Then why isn't he here?" Ron snarled. "Why is he avoiding Hermione?"

For those questions, Tobias didn't have an answer. To be honest, he and Draco barely talked—he usually left for classes before everyone else and left once the bell rung. Tobias had to admit, something was going on with Draco, but he had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with Lucius Malfoy's plans.

* * *

It was Friday night, and Ron had had enough of Draco's act of ignoring Hermione. She wasn't even her usual self anymore. When she wasn't blabbing about Lockhart, she sat in silence—she wasn't even reading anymore! And Draco just sat there as if he didn't care—and Ron was sick of it. If he claimed to be Hermione's friend, he wouldn't be doing half the things he had done this week. And if no one had the guts to confront Malfoy about it, Ron would have to do it himself.

But his trip was cut short as he ran into another Slytherin student—a tan Slytherin at that.

"Lost, Weasley?" The boy taunted.

Ron growled. "Shove it, Zabini."

"I would," Zabini drawled. "But seeing as you're in _my_ part of the castle, I don't have to do anything."

Ron's face went even redder, he didn't have time for this. He already had to deal with one Slytherin prat—he didn't have time to deal with two of them. He tried to push passed Zabini, but then Crabbe and Goyle stepped up behind him. Ron pulled out his wand, causing the three Slytherins to laugh.

"Really, Ronald?" Zabini waved his finger. "Have we not learned?"

Ron clenched his wand tighter. "I don't care. _Move._ "

Crabbe and Goyle stepped up, but Zabini put up a hand, holding them back.

"Ronald, Ronald." Zabini said. "Is that any way to treat an ally? We're on the same side."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Zabini took a step closer. "I'm talking about Malfoy. What?" He raised an eyebrow. "You thought you and your gang of misfits were the only ones noticing it?"

Ron lowered his wand a bit, his interest peaked. "What do you know?"

"About Malfoy? Only that he can't be trusted. He's just like his father—the perfect Slytherin. Cunning, sneaky….. _backstabbing._ "

The Gryffindor ginger froze at Zabini's words. Yes, Zabini was his enemy, but he was also an heir. Theo had told him how Zabini was now joining their training and how they spent the whole summer with him. Zabini was with Draco the whole time—he knew the truth.

"You won't get anything out of him, Weasley. Or LeStrange and Nott." Blaise went on. "And like they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"What do you want?"

Zabini put his hands in his pockets, and began rocking on the balls of his feet. He smirked as he succeeded in capturing the Gryffindor's interest.

"Nothing, everything I want will come in due time." The tan Slytherin said promptly. "But I want to offer you my services."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Your services?"

Zabini nodded. "I'll give you all the information I have on Draco. No strings attached, no debts."

"And why should I trust you?"

The Slytherin chuckled. "You don't have much of a choice, do you, Weasley? Seeing as Granger's life is at stake."

"How do you know about that?" Ron growled, his fist balled.

"I know _everything_ …Billius." Zabini said, causing Ron to turn even redder. "Are you in or not?"

Ron hesitated for a moment. He was about to make a deal with Zabini—no doubt there would be some consequences. But this was for Hermione, and Ron wasn't about to risk the chance to find out Lucius Malfoy's real plan.

"Deal."

Zabini smirked, and Ron felt as if he just made a deal with the devil. "Perfect. Let's shake on it."

Ron held his hand out and he met the cool hands of Blaise Zabini. Ron felt as if he was shaking hands with a slime monster, but he kept telling himself it was for Hermione's sake.

As the Gryffindor walked away, Zabini stood in the corridor, the smirk still on his face.

"So this is your plan?" Crabbe said.

Goyle looked confused. "I thought you were on Draco's side."

"Don't you two _see_?" Zabini rolled his eyes. "I'm on neither of their sides. They only think I am."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, still unsure about Blaise's plan. The tan Slytherin groaned in annoyance.

"I convinced Malfoy to ignore Granger, which caused Weasley to think he's up to something."

"Is he up to something?" Crabbe asked.

"I don't know!" Zabini roared. "But that's not the point. The point is that they will turn against each other, and LeStrange's little gang of misfits will be no more."

"Ohhhhhhh." Crabbe and Goyle said together.

* * *

Hermione sat in the library with Theodore. Tobias and Draco, as well as the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, had been called to Professor Snape's office. Neville was doing extra lessons with McGonagall and nobody knew where Ron had gone.

This week was probably the worst week of her life—and this was only her second year at Hogwarts. She almost missed her chance to returning to Hogwarts, Theodore and Tobias had taken the blame for her, risking expulsion, and now Draco was ignoring her. It pained her to see her friend barely acknowledge that she was there—he even switched seats at the table.

And what made it even worse was that she defended him when Ron thought he had something to do with Malfoy senior's plans. Even as she tried to convince herself that Draco wouldn't do anything to hurt her, she wasn't so sure anymore. The blonde Slytherin was doing absolutely everything to avoid her.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Theodore tried to assure her. "Boys are stupid."

"But it's been a week." Hermione said softly. Theodore sighed, slamming her book.

" _Theodore!_ "

"Now you look her Hermione Jean," Theodore said sternly. "Malfoy can go hump a duck somewhere, but you're Hermione Granger. You don't need him. You got me!"

Hermione sniffled into a laugh.

"If Draco wants to be a prat and ignore you, then so be it. Where's that Gryffindor pride Dumbledore talks about?"

Hermione wiped away her tears. Theodore was right—if Draco wanted to ignore her and pretend they weren't there. Then fine, she would do the same. She would treat him like the Slytherin prat he was, and she wouldn't care one bit about what he thought.

"You're right." She said promptly, opening her book again and starting on her essay.

Theodore smiled. "You darn skippy."

* * *

Saturday came and Quidditch practice had begun. Draco's father had sent in the new brooms yesterday, and Flint immediately called a Saturday morning Quidditch practice. It was six- fifteen in the morning when Flint came and woke the whole team up for practice. If Tobias hadn't been already used to waking up at times earlier than this, he would have hexed the Slytherin captain.

He saw that Draco was already gone before he got dressed. Tobias sighed, seeing as he would have to force a conversation with this best friend—and knowing the blonde Slytherin that would not be an easy task. He grabbed his new Nimbus 2001 and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. Snape had called the whole team into his office last night, presenting them all with new brooms—and a new chaser.

Tobias sighed deeply as he saw Zabini grabbing a Nimbus 2001 as well. Their chaser last year had graduated and seeing as second years could now try out—Zabini had made the cut. Tobias didn't even know that Blaise could fly—but today would be the day everyone would see how well he could. Tobias snorted—everyone would see if he could keep up with the heir of the Dark Lord.

As Tobias walked in the locker room, he was surprised to find Draco sitting on one of the benches, putting on his shin guards.

"Fancy seeing you here," Tobias joked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Draco said back, obviously missing the joke. "We have practice."

"You know what I mean. I've barely seen you all week."

Draco tightened one of his pads. "Oh yeah. Well, I've been busy."

"Busy?" Tobias furrowed his brow. "Doing what?"

Draco snorted. "We are in school, remember? By the way, that Creevy kid is looking for you again."

"I've noticed." Tobias grumbled. Colin followed him all the way to the Quidditch pitch, begging for another picture. Tobias also had to explain to the first- year the rules and regulations of Quidditch. He was going to kill Theodore.

"We haven't seen you in the library." He went on. "Hermione's been worried."

Draco laughed mockingly. "Has she now?"

Tobias frowned. "Yeah she has. But a better question would be why are you ignoring her?"

The blonde Slytherin stopped what he was doing. "I'm not ignoring her."

"You're a horrible liar." Tobias shot back. "Now, what's really going on?"

His cousin then stood up, grabbing his broom and heading for the exit. He stopped in front of Tobias, and their eyes locked. Tobias stare didn't falter and neither did Draco's—they both knew how to play this game well. Draco smirked.

"Nothing's going on." He said. "Just finally realizing what I deserve."

He then pushed past Tobias, leaving the boy with a confused look on his face. Tobias stood there for a moment, trying to understand what Draco meant. _Just finally realizing what I deserve?_ What did that mean?

Quidditch practice went as normal, until the Gryffindor team showed up. Tobias closed his eyes as he realized what Flint meant last night when he said there would be some "unwanted company" on the field. The unwanted company being the Gryffindor Quidditch team—and Tobias had a feeling that this Saturday wasn't meant for the Slytherin team to practice.

"I don't believe it!" He heard the Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood roar. "Flint! This is our practice time! Now clear off!"

Flint smirked, seeing as he was bigger and burlier than Wood. "Plenty room for all of us, Wood."

Wood stormed closer, the rest of the team behind him. Tobias watched as Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George turned red with anger as well.

"But I booked the field!" Wood spat. "I booked it!"

"Ah yes," Flint said promptly. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape." He held out the note for Wood to take, and the Gryffindor captain snatched it out of his hand.

" _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new chaser—_ you have a new chaser?"

Flint stepped aside, revealing Blaise to the Gryffindor team.

"And speaking of new things," Flint teased. "Check out the new brooms, Wood. Nimbus 2001s—a gift from Draco's father."

Blaise laughed. "Still using Cleansweep Fives, Weasley? You're going to need something much better to catch up with us."

Tobias rolled his eyes as Draco snorted. He nudged the Slytherin in the ribs, causing him to hiss lowly. What was his problem?

"Oh look," Flint sneered. "A field invasion."

Tobias looked up to see Ron and Hermione walking onto the field. He could see Draco's grip on his broom tighten. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn't going to end well.

"What's going on?" Ron asked. He then saw Zabini holding a broom. "And what is _he_ doing?"

"Jealous, Weasley?" Blaise taunted. He spun his broom in his hand. "I'm the new Slytherin chaser."

Ron's mouth fell opened as he eyed Blaise's broom. "Are those—"

"Yes, they are." Blaise smirked. "Nimbus 2001s." He shot a look a Wood, who was now puffing steam. "Oh don't worry, Oliver. I'm sure you and the rest of the Gryffindor losers can raise enough gold and get new brooms too. I heard the Quidditch Hall of Fame Museum is looking for ancient merchandise." His eyes directed towards the Cleansweep Fives.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," Hermione said sharply. " _They_ got in on pure talent."

Zabini smirked, he didn't bother to say anything as Draco pushed through the crowd.

"That's funny Granger," He sneered. "Seeing as Zabini didn't buy these brooms—my father did."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Even worse. I guess that explains how you got on the team last year, then."

The Gryffindor team laughed, and Draco face turned into a nasty smirk.

"Oooo that was low, Granger." He said smoothly. "But not as low as you've gotten, worshipping a dolt like Lockhart as if he's a god. _Pathetic._ "

Hermione laughed mockingly. "That's funny—seeing as you once worshiped the ground I walked on!"

The Quidditch field was now filled with "oooos." Draco's smirked faltered, he felt the anger boiling in his veins.

He laughed darkly. "Who would ever worship you? You filthy little mudblood."

The words left his mouth before Tobias could stop him. And it was downhill from there. Draco felt the words burn in his mouth as he spat them out, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. Her face went red, and then it went pale—the tears forming in her eyes. Draco felt the horror fall upon him as he realized what he just said. He just called Hermione a mudblood—a _mudblood_. He had no time to react as Fred and George charged him, but Flint dived in front of him to protect him.

" _How dare you!_ " He heard one of the Gryffindor chasers shriek.

"I told you!" Ron roared, pulling out his wand. "I warned you, Hermione! You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!"

"RON NO!" Tobias screamed, but it was already too late.

"Eat Slugs!" And there was a flash of green light.

 **Author's Note: That darn Zabini! Follow, Fav, and Review!**


	23. COS7: Beware the Rivals

You think the way you live is okay

You think posin' will save your day

You think we don't see that you're running

Better call your boys 'cause I'm coming

~ Rockstar x N.E.R.D

Chapter 23: Beware the Rivals

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?"

"Hermione get him to Hagrid's!"

"Ohhhh—can you hold him still, Tobias? I want to get a picture!"

"No, Colin! Move out of the way!"

Tobias pushed Colin aside as Hermione guided Ron to Hagrid's hut. He was so angry he didn't realize how hard he had pushed Colin, knocking the first year down to the ground.

"Oi!" One of the Weasley brothers called out. "Keep your slimy hands off of him!"

Tobias quickly turned around, glaring at them both. He had no words—and if he did, they wouldn't be polite. He was already furious that Draco had the audacity to call Hermione—their friend—a mudblood and that Ron used his death trap of a wand to curse him. Now instead of Draco being the one cursed, Ron was limping across the grounds, burping up slugs every few seconds. Tobias held his tongue, seeing as this was Ron's brother.

He helped Colin off the ground and returned to his post beside the Slytherin Quidditch team. He saw as Zabini was laughing along with the rest of the team—making jokes and pointing at Ron. He expected Draco to be laughing along with them but was proven wrong as the blonde Slytherin was standing further away from the team—his face mixed with a look of guilt and anger.

When Hermione wasn't trying to keep Ron leveled, she was replaying Draco's words over and over in her head. _"Who would worship you? You filthy little mudblood."_ The words made her sick to her stomach—especially the fact that the blonde Slytherin said it himself. Draco was supposed to be their friend— _her_ friend. And for him to say that—for him to call her a _mudblood_ —no friend would say that to another.

Ron had a feeling mixed with nausea and anger. He knew it—he knew something was going on with Malfoy. But no one would listen to him, and now here they were. Malfoy had called Hermione a mudblood—in front of the whole Slytherin Quidditch team. No doubt that he had said it to keep his up his image. He felt even sicker as he realized that Zabini was right. He had once seen Malfoy as an acquaintance, they were tolerant around each other. But now it would be different—Malfoy couldn't be trusted. He was just the same as the rest of the Slytherins.

 _Just like his father._ He heard Zabini's words echoing through his head.

As they approached Hagrid's hut, the doors opened, and Hermione quickly reacted as it was not the game- keeper who stepped outside.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing." She heard Lockhart say. She almost had the urge to run out from their spot behind the bushes, but given Ron's condition, she had to stay hidden.

"If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one—I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye."

Hermione waited for the professor to get a good distance away from the castle. She watched as his hair and robes blew in the wind before she snapped herself out of the trance she was having and pulled Ron out of the bushes. She slowed down as she noticed that Hagrid's expression was not a happy one, but once the game- keeper saw who was walking toward him, his expression quickly changed.

"I've bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me—come in, come in. Theodore's already inside."

Hermione helped Ron walk through the door, surprised to see that he kept in another round of slugs until they made it inside. Theodore was sitting on the floor, petting Fang. His face turned into one of disgust as he saw Ron's sickly green one.

"What happened to him?"

"Malfoy." Ron breathed out, his cheeks puffing up to keep in another belch.

Hagrid kicked him a bucket. "Draco did this to you?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Ron's wand backfired, but yes, Draco was the reason."

"A thank you would be nice." Ron grumbled, his head echoing from inside the bucket.

Theodore still seemed confused. "Why did you try to curse Draco?"

At those words, Hermione turned pale. It was already bad enough that the words were replaying over and over in her head, but now she would have to repeat it aloud to anyone who'd ask. Theodore and Hagrid stared at her intently, waiting for her to explain what happened, but was stopped as there was another knock on the door. She let out a breath as the knocking distracted Theo and Hagrid from her panic.

"Tobias!" She heard Hagrid say cheerfully. "Thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

"Lockhart was here?" Tobias said as he stepped inside. "Why?"

"Fella tried to give me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well. Like I don't know. Then he went on about bangin' some banshee he banished—didn't believe a word of it."

Tobias began to tune Hagrid out as he saw Ron. The boy's face was the same sickly green color as it was before. His head was in a bucket, and he was belching up some more slugs. As Ron picked his head up, his face frowned at the sight of Tobias.

" _I told you._ " The boy growled.

"Told him what?" Theodore said. "What's going on?"

Ron's eyes never left Tobias's face as he explained. "I told Tobias that there was something up with Malfoy. But he didn't believe me—now Malfoy has gone too far."

Tobias shook his head. "I'm sure there's an explanation for—"

Ron laughed cruelly. "An explanation?! He called Hermione a _mudblood_ , Tobias! Do we really need an explanation for that?"

Theo's mouth fell open. "He did what?!"

Hagrid looked outraged. "He didn'!"

"He did." Ron growled. "He's been ignoring Hermione for days—avoiding her if possible. I guess he finally chose his side. His father's side."

"Draco hasn't chosen his father's side." Tobias groaned. "That's not the reason he's been acting strange, I know it." He looked to Hermione, who was on the verge of tears again. In his gut, he knew why Draco had been acting strange—Draco had a crush on Hermione.

"Somebody must've gotten into his head."

"Who?" Ron asked skeptically. "You saw how he reacted when he found out Hermione was muggle born!"

Tobias clenched his fist. "Because I kept it from him, Ron."

"No!" Ron shouted back. "Because that's how he really felt! You didn't see the way he looked at her, but I did! It's the same way he looked at her last term."

The red- haired boy then dived out of sight again, the sound of slugs falling down into his bucket.

"Do you know why he's been avoiding me?" Hermione asked softly.

Tobias looked at her, wanting to tell her the truth. That Draco was jealous of Lockhart—that's why he was avoiding and ignoring her. But he couldn't expose Draco's secrets like that—that was his family. He looked at Theodore, and the boy gave him a look that the heirs knew meant "do what you have to."

"He can't even tell you." Ron spat. "He probably made some vow to Malfoy to keep his mouth shut."

"No, I didn't." Tobias said back.

"Can none of you be trusted? Will none of you tell us what's going on?"

Tobias groaned. "If we knew what was going on, don't you think we would tell you, Ron?"

"Somebody knows something." Ron said, stopping to spit out more slugs. "And none of you can be trusted until then. All of you Slytherins are the same."

" _Ron_!" Hermione hissed.

"Really, Ronald?" Theodore said, and Tobias could tell his feelings were hurt.

"Don't 'Ron' me, Hermione!" Ron roared. "Look at Malfoy's family, look at _all_ their families—they think they're better than everyone else. _Purebloods._ "

Tobias's jaw clenched, trying to keep his temper leveled. Instead of addressing Ron, he turned to Hermione.

"I'll go talk to Draco, and we'll get this sorted out."

"Absolutely not." Ron said quickly.

"Ron I can decide for myself," Hermione snapped.

Ron scoffed. "And look at where it's gotten you."

"That's enough!" Hagrid roared, causing everyone to go silent. "You lot are _friends_ —you can' go arguing amongst yourselves."

"You're right, Hagrid." Theodore said lowly, standing up from his spot on the floor. "But according to Ronald, I can't be trusted. And friends are supposed to trust each other right?"

Hagrid nodded, not seeing the jurisdiction in Theo's words. "Righ'"

"Then it's simple." Theo continued. "If we can't be trusted, then we aren't friends." He then walked out of Hagrid's hut, leaving the game- keeper speechless. He turned towards Tobias.

"Tobias." He said softly. His heart stopped as the dark- haired boy turned to look at him. He saw anger in the boy's eyes—a fire that he had never seen in Lily's or James's. Hagrid couldn't get his words out, and by the time he could, it was already too late—Tobias had left his hut.

Hagrid then turned back to the remaining second years. Hermione now had tears falling down her face and Ron's head was stuck back down in his bucket. The game- keeper sighed, taking Hermione's hands in his.

"Dirty blood." He laughed softly. "A disgusting thing to call someone. There isn't a spell that you can' do, Hermione." He smiled as the witch turned a brilliant shade of magenta.

"I don't blame you for tryin' to curse him, Ron." He said gruffly. "But it's a good thing your wand backfired. Lucius Malfoy would've blown the school down had word got out that you cursed his son. Imagine what trouble that would've been."

"Would've been worth it." Ron's voice echoed through his bucket, causing Hermione to turn another shade of red.

"Well yes," Hagrid said, his eyes locking on Hermione. "It would've, wouldn't it?"

* * *

Blaise was making his way back to the Slytherin common rooms. Phase one of his plan was a success. He never expected Draco to lash out so hard on Granger, but the mudblood incident was just the icing on the cake. He laughed to himself as he thought about Weasley on the ground coughing up slugs. Blaise had warned him about his wand, but of course, the red- haired boy would do as he pleased. And instead of inflicting damage on his opponent—he inflicted the damage on himself.

As he entered the Slytherin dungeons, he rolled his eyes when he found Malfoy sitting on the windowsill, his knees pressed against his chest. Zabini held in his growl—pathetic. He thought he had gotten through to Malfoy, but it was now clear that mudblood Granger had all of them wrapped around her finger. Draco didn't even see that he was standing up for himself—the Gryffindor had insulted his talent. He suppressed his anger, putting his hands in his Quidditch robes as he approached the blonde Slytherin.

"That was quite a show you put on back there, Draco."

Malfoy didn't even turn his head, but Zabini knew he heard him. The tan Slytherin walked closer, taking a seat in the windowsill across from Draco.

"Haven't you done enough?" Draco said, his eyes never leaving the window.

Zabini chuckled. "What I've done?" At those words, the boy across from him snapped his head at him, and Zabini could see the guilt in the boy's eyes. He had to refrain the strong urge to roll his eyes again.

"I called her a mudblood, because of what you said."

"Not because of what I said," Zabini shook his head. "Because that's how you _felt_ , Draco. She insulted you."

"But I didn't have to call her—"

"Yes you did," Zabini hissed. "She _insulted_ you, Malfoy! She's got you wrapped around her finger so tight, you don't even realize that you were standing up for yourself."

"Hermione's my friend." Draco growled back.

" _Was_ your friend." Blaise corrected him. "Do you think she cared about your feelings when she said that?"

Draco went silent. Did she? Hermione knew how he had gotten onto the Slytherin Quidditch team. And for her to say that, it did hurt—but not as bad for him to say what he had. Draco would've gotten over it.

"And what will LeStrange and Nott say?" Zabini said. Draco seemed confused, and Blaise scoffed as the blonde Slytherin looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You think they're going to side with you? That they're going to see you as the victim?"

"Why wouldn't they? They're my—"

"Friends?" Zabini interrupted him. "You know that LeStrange will go to no ends to protect Granger, and Nott—do even have to explain him?"

Draco shook his head. "They wouldn't do that. They wouldn't turn against me."

At that moment, the common room door burst opened and an angry Theodore Nott came storming through. His face was pale and his fist were balled—his eyes locked on Draco.

"Time to find out." Zabini said, and he jumped down from the windowsill, heading up to the Slytherin dorms.

"YOU CALLED HER A WHAT?!" Theo roared.

The blonde Slytherin jumped down. "Theo, calm down."

But it was too late. Draco fell to the ground as Theodore punched him in the jaw. Draco saw the boy raising his first for another blow, but was relieved when he saw someone grab Theodore from behind.

"Theo, stop!" He heard his cousin scream.

"TOBIAS LET GO OF ME!"

Draco stood up, wiping the blood from his mouth. He watched as Theo struggled in his cousin's hold. Draco looked to Tobias for some sign of understanding—a sign of forgiveness- but it wasn't there.

"I didn't mean it!" Draco called out.

"Well, that makes everything peachy doesn't it?!" Theodore spat.

Tobias nodded. "You called her a mudblood, Draco."

The blonde heir groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "Can we please stop using that word?"

Theodore twitched in Tobias's grip, but the dark- haired Slytherin wouldn't let him go. "Oh, I'm sorry?! Does that offend you? Because last time I checked, you weren't the one _crying in HAGRID'S HUT!_ "

Draco then dropped his hands. "She's crying?"

"What did you expect her to do?!" Theodore retorted back. "Laugh it off?!"

" _Theo._ " Tobias warned as the heir tried to break his hold again.

"NO!" Theo roared. "He always does this, Tobias! He says something to hurt her feelings, and I'm always the one who has to cheer her up!"

"She _insulted_ me, Theo!" Draco shot back, his mouth agape.

"So what?!" Theodore rolled his eyes. "That gives you the right to call her a mudblood?!"

" _Stop saying that!_ "

"No I won't stop saying that! Why should I? It won't make any difference, we're all the same anyway."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What?!"

"Ron doesn't trust us anymore! Because of what _you said_!"

The blonde Slytherin shrugged. "So what? Weasley's upset—"

"He's not just upset." Tobias cut in, and Draco could hear the conviction in his voice. "He won't even let us talk to Hermione."

"Granger can decide for herself."

"Well you proved her wrong, didn't you? She _trusted_ you, Draco."

"Why is everyone looking at this like it's my fault?!" Draco roared.

Theodore's eyes narrowed at him. "Is he serious?"

"Yes. I am!" Draco screamed back. "Hermione came at me first! I wouldn't have said it—but I was angry. Don't you think I was hurt about what she said?"

Theodore scoffed, finally breaking free of Tobias's hold. Draco braced himself, preparing for the brown- haired boy to hit him again. But Theo did nothing, he only stood there.

"So what she said you bought your way onto the team?" Tobias said. "You've been—"

" _So what_?!"

"You've been avoiding her all week, Malfoy!"

Draco stopped. "You two are supposed to be on my side!"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT SIDES DRACO!" Tobias yelled back.

Draco laughed darkly. Once again, Zabini proved himself right. Theodore and Tobias were supposed to be his friends. Tobias was supposed to be his _family._ They were supposed to understand—they were supposed to take his side. But here they were, turning against him.

"Is there a problem?"

Theo and Tobias turned to see Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle standing in front of them. Zabini stood in front, and he was wearing his usual black suit while his cronies were in their Slytherin robes.

"This is none of your business, Zabini." Tobias said lowly, and Theodore nodded in agreement, his fist balled.

"I wasn't talking to you two." Blaise shot back. He looked at Draco. "Are these two bothering you, Draco?"

"The bloody hell is he going on about?" Theodore said.

Tobias looked between his cousin and Blaise. It all finally made sense. "Zabini. You've been allowing Zabini to get into your head."

"That's a serious accusation, LeStrange." Zabini chuckled. "Draco, me and the boys were going to the Great Hall for lunch. You can join us if you like."

Tobias could feel his anger returning again. This was why he and Draco hadn't been talking all week—his cousin was too busy chatting it up with Zabini. And knowing the tan Slytherin, it was no doubt he had something to do with the way Draco had been acting this week as well.

Draco looked at his two best friends—or what used to be his two best friends. Tobias looked as if he was trying to make sense of everything and Theodore looked livid, but at this point, Draco didn't care.

"Sure." He said, making eye contact with LeStrange and Nott. "I was done here anyway."

The blonde Slytherin then walked across the common room, bumping Tobias on his way out. He didn't pass a second glance as he walked alongside Zabini and his cronies out of the common room.

Tobias stood there, his chest now rising and falling with anger. How could Draco leave them for Zabini? How could Draco not see what he said to Hermione was _wrong_? He had allowed Zabini and his Slytherin pride get the best of him—and now everything was falling apart.

* * *

Snape was sitting in the teacher's lounge—an area where he liked to spend most of his Saturday mornings. His office in the dungeons did not receive much daylight at times like this, and he could also avoid student confrontations. In front of him laid two pieces of parchment—the detentions for the two heirs. Tobias LeStrange and Theodore Nott. As promised, Snape said he would decide their detentions at a later date. His plan was to have Nott filing all of his potions exams—by year, then by grade, then by last name. He knew that this task would keep the son of mischief busy for the length of his detention. But LeStrange was different—any task given to him would be a breeze. Nothing Snape thought of screamed out punishment.

"Morning Severus!" He heard a cheery voice say.

Snape held in a groan as he recognized the voice as Gilderoy Lockhart. He looked up to see the man in a set of champagne robes with a matching wizarding hat on top of his head.

"Lockhart." Snape said.

Lockhart walked over to pour himself a cup of pumpkin juice. "I just came back from Hagrid's. Wonderful chap. I just think he needs more…assistance. You know he's never read any of my books?"

"I'm sure he isn't the only one." Snape sneered.

Lockhart began chuckling. "Always the joker, Severus." He then walked over to Snape's table and sat across from him. "What's that you got there?"

"Detentions. For LeStrange and Nott."

"Ah yes," The blonde man said, leaning back in his chair. "My prodigal sons of fame. What have you got for Nott?"

"Filing." Snape answered. "Something to keep the boy busy—so he won't tear my office apart."

There was another chuckle. "And LeStrange?"

"Haven't decided."

Lockhart sat back up. "Well, you know, Tobias is a tricky one. One day he's on the front of the Evening Prophet, next he's giving out signed photos. Very reckless stuff—I didn't even do that when I first started. You know, Severus, I think what the boy needs is a mentor."

"A mentor?"

"Yep and It'll be me. Look at me—Gilderoy Lockhart. Hogwarts alumni and celebrity. He could learn a lot from me." Lockhart's eyes then went wider with glee. "He should have detention with me! I could show him the ropes—take him under my wing."

Snape pondered Lockhart's words. It was astonishing that the man really didn't see how annoying he was. And from his observations, it was obvious that LeStrange was no big fan of the Dark Arts professor. He felt a smirk come across his lips—this was the perfect detention.

"That's an excellent idea." Snape said.

* * *

"Ron, please, you're overreacting."

" _I'm not_."

Hermione, Neville, and Ron were sitting at Gryffindor table—alone. Ron had just finished telling Neville about what happened earlier that morning. The dumpy Gryffindor didn't seem to agree with Ron's actions of completely cutting off their Slytherin friends but chose not to argue as Ron was at a level of red that couldn't be described.

Neville looked over to the Slytherin table and noticed that Draco was sitting next to Zabini. And what was even stranger, the blonde Slytherin seemed to be enjoying himself over there. Where were Tobias and Theodore?

"Why is Draco sitting with Zabini?" Neville said, pointing towards the Slytherin table.

Ron looked over—and Malfoy indeed was sitting next to the tan Slytherin. He made eye contact with Zabini, who simply nodded towards him, hinting off their previous agreement. Ron did nothing in return but went back to eating his food.

"Dunno. Don't care either."

"I don't think he meant it." Hermione said softly. "You didn't see how he looked after."

Ron snorted. "If he didn't mean it, why isn't he over here apologizing? Why didn't he come to Hagrid's?"

For those questions, Hermione had no answer. Ron was right—Draco had plenty of opportunities to apologize. That's if he really didn't mean what he said towards her. She looked across the table, watching the blonde Slytherin sit in the midst of Blaise and his cronies. She could tell he seemed out of place, though he tried to appear otherwise—why was he trying so hard to fit in with them?

The great hall doors opened, and Tobias and Theodore stepped through. Hermione hoped that they would come over, and at least try to talk Ron out of this fit he was in, but the two Slytherins didn't even cast a glance at the three. They walked over to the Slytherin table—Hermione assumed they were going to join Draco and Zabini. But they didn't, causing her to frown in confusion. Why weren't they all sitting together?

"I think Tobias, Theodore, and Draco aren't friends anymore." Neville said. Hermione turned around, noticing that Neville was also watching the two boys from the Gryffindor table.

"Maybe they realized I was right—Malfoy can't be trusted." Ron said gruffly.

As much as Hermione wanted to argue back with Ron, she couldn't. To be honest, she didn't know what to think. Draco was sitting with Zabini, Tobias looked indifferent, and she could tell Theodore was absolutely livid. They went from friends to rivals in a matter of hours. She remembered what Tobias said in Hagrid's hut—somebody must've gotten into Draco's head. But who? She looked back over to the Slytherin table—almost jumping in shock when she noticed Zabini staring at her. He didn't do anything but smirk, and Hermione knew she had her first suspect.

"Mister Weasley."

The sound of Professor McGonagall's voice brought Hermione back to the table. The transfiguration professor stood before them, a stern look on her face.

"You will be doing detention this evening. You will be polishing all the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch."

"That sounds easy." Ron perked up.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "With a wand, yes. But you, Mister Weasley, will not be using magic, only elbow grease."

Ron gulped. A whole detention with Mr. Filch was already bad, but cleaning the trophy room with no wand. He would literally be in there all night, maybe longer, seeing he would be with Filch—who enjoyed punishment.

"Eight o' clock sharp, Mister Weasley."

Professor McGonagall then left, and Ron slouched down in his seat.

* * *

Just when Tobias thought today couldn't get any worse, Professor Snape came and assigned him and Theodore their detentions. Theodore was to help Snape file the potions exams in his office, and Tobias had to spend his detention with Professor Lockhart. And when Tobias asked if he could help Theodore file the papers, Snape quickly said no, his reasoning being that Lockhart requested him personally.

Tobias gritted his teeth as he walked down the second- floor corridor to the Dart Arts Professor's office. He stood there for a moment before finally raising his fist to knock on the door. The door opened immediately after he knocked, a beaming Lockhart standing in the doorway.

"Just the man I was looking for!" He said. "Come in, Tobias, come in."

As Tobias walked in, he noticed that Lockhart's office was decorated exactly as the classroom was. Portraits of Lockhart hung everywhere, each one smiling and flaunting off their robes and wand. Tobias looked at the professor's desk and felt a rock land in his stomach when he realized what his detention would be. A large pile of photographs lay on his desk, a few of them were even signed.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Lockhart said, placing a hand on Tobias's shoulder. "All a part of the process—you'll get there one day."

"Professor Lockhart. I'm not going to be _signing_ these am I?"

Lockhart laughed. "Oh, heaven's no! You'll be addressing the envelopes."

Lockhart then guided the Slytherin second year to a seat on the opposite side of his desk. There waiting for him was a stack of white envelopes and a quill with a lilac ink. Tobias sat down, hoping that this detention would go by fast.

He was proven wrong as minutes passed by and all that could be heard was the sounds of parchment and Lockhart's voice. Tobias answered the professor with short responses, hoping that Lockhart would stop talking, but it seemed that Tobias's strategy was only encouraging him to continue. The Slytherin tried to tune the man's voice out, but was brought back into the conversation by certain phrases such as "Fame's a fickle friend, Tobias" and "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that."

But as hours pressed on, Lockhart finally said something that caught his attention.

"I've noticed that you and your friends aren't hanging anymore."

Tobias looked up. "What?"

Lockhart sat back in his seat. "You and your friends—it's the attention, isn't it?"

Tobias seemed confused, and Lockhart chuckled.

"Being a celebrity can be hard sometimes, especially for others—especially friends."

Tobias had to suppress a groan as he realized what Lockhart was talking about. Once again, the professor tried to take the blame for Tobias's problems. He looked at the clock—it had to be time to go. _Please let it be time to go._

"Friends can get jealous," Lockhart continued. "Nothing to be upset about. It's just a part of the process."

Tobias closed his eyes, trying to block Lockhart's voice out. He didn't want to think about what happened earlier today. That his cousin was now hanging with Blaise Zabini. That Ron wouldn't allow them to speak to Hermione and said that he and Theodore couldn't be trusted.

" _Come…..come to me….Let me rip you….Let me tear you…Let me kill you…"_

Tobias snapped his eyes opened. " _What_?"

"I know!" Lockhart exclaimed. "And I told them—they're just jealous because I'm on the cover of Witch Weekly and they aren't. Some friends, huh?"

Tobias looked around the room. There was no one else here but him and Lockhart.

"Are you alright, my boy?"

"I—uhh—I thought I heard a voice."

Lockhart raised an eyebrow. "A voice? What voice?"

Tobias didn't answer, straining his ears to hear the sound again. It sounded so familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

"I think you may be a little tired, my bot- _great Scott_ , look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! The time's flown, hasn't it? I guess I should dismiss you before Snape has both our heads."

Tobias then got up and left for the dungeons. When he entered the Slytherin common room, there was barely anybody there. He went upstairs, preparing himself for another possible confrontation with Draco. But as he opened the door, Draco wasn't in his bed, and neither was Crabbe and Goyle. However, Theodore was there, wrapping colored bandages around his fingers.

"Theodore what are you doing?"

Theo sat up, holding up his hands. "Cool huh? They're called band- aids. Found them in some first year's robes. They come in all different colors. Look!"

Tobias shoved Theo's hands away. "That's nice. But why are you wearing them?"

"Because after you file a gazillion papers for Snape, you get paper cuts."

"On all your fingers?"

Theodore made a face. "I got carried away. So anyway—how was your detention?"

Tobias plopped down on his bed. "Weird. I heard a voice."

"Are you sure it wasn't Lockhart blabbing?"

The other Slytherin shook his head. "No, and what's even weirder—Lockhart didn't hear it. Only I did."

Theodore wrapped another band- aid around his finger. "Maybe he was lying. Or maybe somebody took your invisibility cloak again."

"No one opened the door. And I would've known if Lockhart was lying."

Theodore laid back down. "And only you can hear it?"

"Yeah."

" _Creepy._ "

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	24. COS8: The Second Halloween

Don't get strung out by the way that I look

Don't judge a book by its cover

I'm not much of a man by the light of day

But by night I'm one hell of a lover

~ Sweet Transvestite x Tim Curry (Rocky Horror Picture Show)

Chapter 24: The Second Halloween

Voldemort sat at his desk in his study. He had just finished reading the letter Tobias had sent him a few hours ago. Though his heir seemed worried, Voldemort was pleased. If the boy was hearing the voices, then the chamber was open, and the monster was free again. Everything was happening as planned—the first strike was set to happen on Halloween.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, preparing his response to his grandson's concern.

 _Dear Tobias,_

 _I'm not sure why you are hearing voices, but please keep me updated. Hearing voices is not a good sign—even for a wizard. Try to ignore them if you can, but if you can't—write to me again. And only me. Do not tell the headmaster or Professor Snape. I don't want you to cause a panic._

 _Grandfather._

Voldemort set the parchment aside, his plan to have it sent back to Hogwarts in the morning. He made sure the letter was precise and clear—he didn't need Dumbledore meddling in his plans. If his enemy knew that Tobias was hearing voices, he would become suspicious and the muggle- born children would no longer be vulnerable. Lucius had told him about how some of the muggle- born students weren't able to travel through the barrier onto the Hogwarts platform last week. Any more suspicious actions, and Dumbledore may resort to sending all the students home—and Voldemort couldn't have that.

* * *

Ginny woke up on girls' bathroom floor. She sat up quickly, half disgusted that she was laying on the floor, and half- confused about how she even got there. She didn't remember walking to the bathroom, or even laying down on the floor. The last thing she remembered doing was writing in her diary—and then nothing.

She looked up to notice she was laying under one of the bathroom sinks. She quickly slid from under it as she eyed the rusty and grimy metal pipes. She stood up, dusting her robes off. She noticed that her diary was tucked away in her robes—but she didn't remember putting her diary there. She never walked with it around the castle—she always kept it under her mattress in her dorm.

The bathroom was dark—it had to be at least midnight. No one else was there but her, and it gave Ginny chills up her spine. How did she get passed Filch? How did she get passed _Peeves_? How did no one—teacher or student—see Ginny Weasley walking down the corridors in the middle of the night? She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to see if there was anything different about her appearance. But everything was the same.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Ginny whipped around, slapping her hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Her brothers had told her of the many ghost that creep around the castle—but they had never told her about the ghosts that haunt the bathrooms. Floating in front of her was a female ghost. She looked about Fred and George's age and she had thick circular spectacles and dark lanky hair.

"I—uhhh—I—" Ginny spluttered.

"You've come to make fun of me." The ghost said. "Haven't you?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. I don't even know who you are."

The ghost seemed hurt. "Of course you don't know who _I_ am. Nobody cares about little, moaning Myrtle."

"They call you Moaning Myrtle?"

Myrtle sniffed. "Oh they call me lots of names." She stalked closer to Ginny. "Why are you here?"

Ginny took a step back. "I'm not really sure—I—"

"You better be careful." Myrtle said. "I died in this bathroom. And the same thing can happen to you."

Ginny's eyes grew wider as Myrtle spoke. She died? In this bathroom? The same bathroom that she just woke up in? Ginny walked backwards swiftly, keeping her eyes on Myrtle who hadn't moved from the spot she was in. The Weasley girl pushed through the bathroom doors, running as fast as she could back to Gryffindor tower. She had to tell Tom what happened—he was the only one who would believe her.

* * *

October came around and the chilly winds had everyone under the weather. Neville tried his best to keep from getting sick, but it was inevitable. Along with the rest of the students, Neville had been given Pepperup Potion, which worked instantly, but had an adverse side effect. Neville's ears had been smoking for hours since he took the potion. Everyone at the Gryffindor table kept staring at him, and the boy wished Theodore was here to ease the tension. Theodore's jokes always helped Neville feel better about his embarrassing moments.

The six hadn't spoken since the mudblood incident. Ron was doing his best to keep Hermione away from the Slytherins, which Neville could tell infuriated her to no end. Draco was still hanging with Zabini, and even though he had been hanging with the tan Slytherin for a month, he still looked uncomfortable and out of place. Tobias and Theodore still sat at the end of the Slytherin table—Neville only saw them in class or in the Great Hall. To be honest, Neville missed his friends.

For days, the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had to endure rain the size of cats and dogs. The black lake rose a few inches and flower beds turned into muddy puddles. The pumpkins that Hagrid had grown for Halloween had now swelled to size of his house. But even as the rain poured—that didn't stop Quidditch practice for the house teams.

Which brought Theodore to wandering the castle alone. With Tobias being at Quidditch practice, the Slytherin had no one to talk to. He wished he could talk to Hermione, or even Neville. Tobias was so caught up in these voices he was hearing, he and Theodore barely talked. But on this rainy night, Theo was lucky to find some willing companions. Even if they were the ghostly type.

"And then he says me and Tobias can't be trusted."

" _No._ " Nearly Headless Nick said shockingly. "And then what did you do?"

"I walked out of Hagrid's hut." Theodore said proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Should've hexed him." The Bloody Baron grunted. Peeves nodded furiously at his suggestion.

"No, he shouldn't have." The Grey Lady sniffed. "You did the right thing, Theodore."

Theodore shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But I miss them—they were my friends, and now I'm just this weird kid talking to ghosts." He sat up. "I mean not that you guys aren't great—you guys just aren't real people."

Nearly Headless Nick nodded. "Point taken."

"So what's been up with you guys?"

Peeves flew around in a circle. "Just the usual. Made some Ravenclaw first year wet his pants earlier. What?!" The ghost shouted as he noticed the Bloody Baron glaring daggers at him. "He's _fine._ "

"A girl in my house keeps having her things taken." The Grey Lady said irritably. "Very kind girl, yes. But some of those Ravenclaws can be so rude!"

"Hence my action of making one wet his pants." Peeves sniggered.

"What about you Baron?" Theodore said.

The Bloody Baron looked at the boy with his empty eyes. Theodore had become accustomed to the eyeless ghost, which only furthered their friendship.

"I've been trying to keep all the ghost in line for the upcoming holiday." He then turned his head towards Peeves. "It seems that I need to try a bit harder."

"Or not." Peeves grumbled.

Theodore turned towards Nearly Headless Nick. "What about you Nicholas?"

"Oh nothing." The ghost said dismissively. He was fumbling with a transparent piece of parchment in his hand.

"What's that?" Theodore asked curiously.

"Nothing, nothing." The ghost said. "A matter of no importance….It's not as though I really wanted to join."

"Join what?"

"Nothing, nothing." Nick said again. "I didn't fulfill the requirements anyway."

The Bloody Baron groaned. "Just come out with it, Nicolas."

Nearly Headless Nick snapped his head towards the Slytherin ghost. " _Fine_! If you all must know, I applied for the Headless Hunt and I was _denied_ membership."

"But Nick," Theodore said scratching the back of his neck. "You aren't headless."

"But you would think, wouldn't you," The ghost began waving the letter amongst the others. "that getting hit forty- five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you?! I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly. Just look at what they wrote."

He showed Theodore the paper, and Theodore had to squint to read the words on the transparent parchment.

" _We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies_ " Theodore read. "That's a bunch of bologna. You're just as headless as the next guy."

"Exactly!" Nick snapped. "But oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated- Podmore."

Theodore shook his head. "Podmore can go hump a duck somewhere. They don't call you Nearly Headless Nick for nothing."

"You're right." The ghost said proudly. "He can duck a hump—"

"—hump a duck—"

"Yes that. I'll even write him a letter saying—ahhhh! What was that?"

Theodore turned around, hearing the sound as well. A high- pitched mewl filled the corridor. Theodore spotted Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, striding towards them. Theodore could see her yellow eyes boring into him from across the corridor.

"Oh, no." The Grey Lady said. "Filch is coming."

The Bloody Baron sat up. "You must leave now, Mister Nott."

Peeves nodded furiously. "Filch isn't in a great mood—he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains," Peeves had to hold in his laughter at that. "all over the ceiling in dungeon five."

"He's been cleaning all morning, and-"

"YOU!"

Theodore shot around again to see that Mrs. Norris was now accompanied by Mr. Filch. He was breathing heavily, his every breath coming out as a wheeze. His eyes were wild—Theodore had the urge to run but his legs wouldn't move.

"Me?" Theodore said nervously.

"You Slytherins think it's funny to leave _mud_ all over the floor?!" The care taker shouted.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Mud? What are you talking about? I didn't drag in any mud—I've been here the whole time talking to—" But when the brown- haired Slytherin turned around, his ghostly companions were gone.

"I don't want to hear your lies!" Filch hissed. "I've had enough of it. Filth! Everywhere! Follow me, Nott."

Theodore groaned as he now had no choice but to follow the caretaker to who knows where. "Lucky me."

Theo followed Filch downstairs and to his office. Theodore had never been inside Filch's office before, but he remembered Ron had told him about all the times his brothers, Fred and George, had been in here. He frowned as it hurt a bit to think about Ron. Theodore pushed back those thoughts as he looked around the room. The place was dusty and it had no windows—and it smelled horrible. There were filing cabinets around the room and Theodore saw that Filch had a folder for every student that's ever been in his office. There was even a cabinet that belonged particularly to Fred and George and a group of students named the Marauders—whoever that was.

Filch plopped down in the seat across from him, snatching a quill out of his desk and fumbling for a piece of parchment.

"Where's the form? Where's the form?" He muttered angrily. "Dung…..great sizzling dragon bogies….. _frog brains….rat intestines…_ I've had enough of it!"

He slammed the form on his desk, dipping his quill in the ink jar.

" _Name…._ Theodore Nott… _.crime—_ "

"I didn't do anything!" Theodore yelled out.

" _Silence!_ " Filched shouted. "You can't lie to me. The muddy footprints led right to you!"

"Then it had to be one of those bloody Quidditch players—they had practice today. _In the rain._ Look- I don't even have a uniform on."

Filch stared hard at the boy, no doubt trying to decide if he should believe Theodore's story or not. Theodore rolled his eyes as Mr. Filch decided against it and lowered his quill to the parchment once more. But before he could even put the ink to the parchment there was a loud BANG coming from the ceiling above.

"PEEVES!" Filch roared. "I'm going to get him this time. I'll get you!" The caretaker then stood up, not taking a second glance at Theodore as he ran out of his office.

Theodore was now bored. He thought about leaving, but stayed in his seat as he knew that leaving would get him in more trouble. He shivered as he thought about the howler his mother sent him on the first day of school. No more of those, he thought. So instead of leaving he walked around the caretaker's office. His first task was to investigate the file cabinet belonging to the troublemakers known as the Marauders. But as Theodore walked passed Filch's desk, something else caught his attention. A large, glossy purple envelope that had the word " _Kwikspell"_ on it. Theodore snorted as he didn't even have to continue reading to know what this envelope was about. But he did anyway—Filch was a squib.

He pulled out the parchment inside the envelope, reading the contents of the letter. Theodore chuckled to himself as he came across "Lesson One: Holding Your Wand (Some Useful Tips)." He laughed even louder when he read the reviews—other Squibs were actually enjoying this crap. It really worked. Theodore was about to turn to the next page when he heard shuffling near the door. He tucked the parchment in his robes and set the envelope back on Filch's desk.

"That Vanishing Cabinet was extremely valuable!" He said gleefully, and Theodore was glad to see his mood had changed. "We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet."

He smile then fell when he looked back at Theodore. "What are you doing here?"

Theodore narrowed his eyes. "You brought me here."

Filch let out a soft "ah", seeming to remember why he brought the Slytherin in his office in the first place. He then looked at his desk, noticing that his Kwikspell envelope was out of place.

"Have you—did you touch that?" He spluttered.

"Touch what?" Theodore said innocently.

Mr. Filch looked back at the envelope and then to Theodore. "Nothing. Just get out of here. I have to write up Peeves' report."

"Gladly." Theodore said, and he walked out of Filch's office, patting his pocket where Filch's Kwikspell brochure was hidden.

"Theodore! Theodore over here!" He heard The Grey Lady whisper.

Theodore walked across the corridor. He found all of his ghostly friends floating around.

"Did it work?" Nearly Headless Nick asked nervously.

"Of course it worked." The Bloody Baron grunted. "Look at him."

"Oh, thank goodness." The Grey Lady said. "Nicolas persuaded Peeves to crash that vanishing cabinet right over Filch's office."

Nick nodded eagerly. "Thought it might distract him."

"Brilliant." Theodore smiled. "It worked perfectly. I didn't even get detention."

"Well, whooptie- doo for you." Peeves grumbled.

Theodore gave Peeves an apologetic look. "How can I repay you guys?"

"You don't have to repay us." The Gray Lady waved a hand at him.

"Well, actually," Nearly Headless Nick cut in.

"Yes." Theodore said, leaning in curiously.

"Well, this Halloween," The ghost began. "will be my five hundredth deathday."

" _Go on._ "

"And I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. I have friends coming from all over the country."

The Bloody Baron groaned. "Don't tell me you invited the Flying Dutchman again."

Nicolas put his hands on his hips. "As a matter of fact I _did._ What you did to him last year was absolutely foul, Baron!"

"He deserved it."

Theodore looked between the two ghosts. "What happened?"

The Grey Lady shivered. "It's best we don't talk about it."

"Gives me chills every time I think about it." Peeves said.

"Nevermind." Theodore said quickly. "So your party?"

"Ah yes," Nick said cheerfully. "It would be an _honor_ if you would attend. And you can invite Mister LeStrange as well. You know what they say- the more the merrier. Unless you would rather go to the school feast?"

"Nonsense." Theodore said back. "Me and Tobias will be there." He held up his right hand. "You have my word."

* * *

"No."

Theodore groaned. "Tobias come on. I've got my good suit on and everything."

Tobias turned around, and Theodore was indeed dressed in the same black suit he wore to his dinner party. Tobias knew that Theodore barely liked dressing up for things, but when he did—it was imperative that he went to the destination it was destined for.

"No." Tobias said, despite Theodore's logic. "I don't know why you even promised that ghost we would be going."

"Tobias." Theodore said desperately. "It's his _deathday_! Not his birthday. Deathday. Meaning the day he died."

"I know what it means."

Theodore threw his hands in the air. "It's Halloween for Salazar's sake! Wouldn't you rather be at a creepy ghost's Deathday party than in the Great Hall eating delicious candy and sweets?"

"Yes." Tobias said shortly.

Theodore groaned again. "Come on. And anyway, you owe me."

"Owe you?" Tobias raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." The other Slytherin nodded. "You don't even talk to me. You've been so worried about Quidditch and the voices, you barely notice that I'm here."

Tobias chuckled. "What are you—my wife?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself." Theodore snapped. "You're not even my type. Plus, that spot's been reserved for Pansy."

Tobias went red. "I'm not marrying Pansy. We're just friends."

"That's what you say." Theodore grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ugh, fine!" Tobias sighed. "I'll go with you to this stupid party."

"Great." Theodore said cheerfully. "Now change."

Tobias looked down at his Slytherin robes. "What's wrong with what I have on?"

Theodore rolled his eyes. "We're going to a Deathday party not Charms class. Now change!"

"Alright. Alright." Tobias said, removing his Slytherin tie. Theodore sat on his bed, waiting for his friend to get dressed.

"Hey, did you know that Filch is a squib?"

"No way."

" _Way._ "

* * *

It was seven o' clock and Hermione, Ron, and Neville were making their way passed the brightly lit Great Hall and towards the dark dungeons for Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party.

"Tell me why I'm going to this again." Ron grumbled.

"Because you _promised,_ " Hermione said bossily. "You told Peeves that you would go."

"It was only so I could stay out of trouble. I didn't think he would remember."

The three traveled down the passageway to the party. The passage had been lit with candles, and as they went deeper into the dungeons, the candles got brighter. But even then, it did not make the three Gryffindors anymore cheerful than they already pretended to be. The candles were long and black, each one burning bright with blue flames—it made the second years look as if they were ghosts as well. Hermione shivered and wrapped her robes tighter around her.

As they neared the end of the passage way, they could hear the airy voices of ghosts talking and what sounded like someone scraping their fingernails on a chalkboard. Ron covered his ears.

"Is that supposed to be _music_?"

"My friends, my dear friends." Nick said mournfully. "Please come inside…thank you for coming."

The three walked inside the dungeon—Ron in front, Hermione in the middle, and Neville at the end. Ron was amazed by the many ghosts that were drifting around the dance floor. There were couples dancing to the eerie sounds that were supposed to be music. Hermione looked up at the stage to notice an orchestra of musical saws. Neville looked up to notice that the chandelier was covered with black candles as well, each one blazing with blue flames.

"Shall we have a look around?" Hermione said uncomfortably.

"Careful not to walk through anyone." Ron said nervously, but was too late as Neville walked through a group of gloomy nuns.

As they walked around the dungeon, Hermione passed the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of its forehead. She saw the Bloody Baron and his silver bloodstained robes floating around the party table. Hermione stopped as she noticed a familiar ghost—a very familiar ghost.

"Oh no," She said, stopping in her tracks.

"What's wrong?" said Neville

"It's Moaning Myrtle." Hermione said quickly. "Turn back, turn back."

"Who?"

"She haunts the toilet in the girls' bathroom on the first floor."

Ron's face turned into one of disgust. "She haunts a _toilet_?"

"Yes," Hermione said, walking passed another group of ghosts. "It's been out of order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you—"

"Look food!" Ron shouted, and the three rushed over to the table, seeing as they missed the Halloween feast. They were starving.

But when they approached the black velvet table, their appetites went away as quickly as they came. The food smelled of rotten eggs—and the Gryffindors soon found out why. There were silver platters of large, rotten fish. There were also char burned cakes and molded cheese. At the end of the table was a giant gray cake in the shape of a tombstone.

Hermione walked over to read the words on the cake when she heard a familiar voice.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it?"

She turned to see Theodore talking to one of the party ghost. He was wearing a black suit with a bent party hat on his head. This was definitely Theodore Nott. And beside him was Tobias LeStrange.

" _Theo_!" Hermione said excitedly, not caring if Ron was around or not.

The Slytherin snapped his head towards her. "Hermione!" He smiled.

"What are you doing here?" Tobias said eagerly, smiling as well.

"I was invited! What are you doing here?"

Theodore pointed to himself. "We were invited, too! Gosh, I've missed you dearly." He groaned. "You don't understand how bored I've been. Tobias—"

"What are you two doing here?"

Ron had walked up to the two, standing in front of Hermione. His fist were balled, and he had a look on his face that wasn't an effect from the food.

"I was invited, duh!" Theodore spat, balling his fist as well.

"Well look what the cat dragged in." Another voice sneered. "Or in your case, Weasley, coughed up."

Blaise Zabini was also standing beside them, and with him came Draco. Draco went wide eyed as he saw Hermione standing behind Ron, but was distracted as the ginger glared at him.

"Oh this isn't good." The Grey Lady said frantically.

"Who invited them _all_ here?" The Bloody Baron muttered.

Nearly Headless Nick shook his head. "It wasn't me."

The ghosts all looked at Peeves, who was smiling guiltily.

"What? I thought it would be funny."

The Grey Lady pinched the bridge of her nose. "We have to do something! You remember what Theodore said."

"They'll ruin my party." Nick whined. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent."

"On second thought." The Bloody Baron said. "Maybe we should just watch."

Peeves smiled. "I got an idea. Hold still."

Ron rolled his sleeves up. "You shouldn't have come here, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, unbothered by Weasley's motions. "Well I was invited. See, unlike you Weasley, I was taught manners. If somebody invites you somewhere, it would be rude not to attend."

"Then I guess this fist to your mouth will be you party favor, eh?"

Before Ron could step any closer to Draco, Peeves flew out the bottom of the table, placing himself between the seven.

"Well hello there!" The ghost said sweetly. "I'm glad you all could make it."

"Hello, Peeves." Blaise said politely.

Peeves held out a bowl of fungus- covered peanuts. "Nibbles?"

The seven second years frowned at the snack. "No thanks." Said Hermione.

Peeves scowled, he was sure the snack would distract them. It was time for plan B. He turned towards Hermione, popping a peanut in his mouth.

"Heard you talking about poor Myrtle," He said. " _Rude_ you was about poor Myrtle. Don't you know it's rude to talk about someone behind their back?"

"Who's Myrtle?" Tobias asked.

"Oh, no, Peeves," Hermione whispered frantically. "don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset."

Peeves wagged a finger. "Should've thought about that before you said it."

Theodore face- palmed himself. "Oh you've done it now."

"OI! MYRTLE!" Peeves roared.

"I didn't mean it," Hermione went on. "I don't mind—er, hello Myrtle."

Before them stood another ghost, this time it was a female. She looked sadder than any of the ghosts at the party. She stared at them all through her thick spectacles.

"What?" She said sulkily.

Blaise sniggered, nudging Draco. "Come on, Malfoy. We've been here long enough."

"How are you Myrtle?" Hermione tried to say as nicely as she could. "It's nice to see you out of the toilet."

The ghost sniffed, unmoved by Hermione's gestured.

Peeves flew beside the Gryffindor. "Miss Granger was just talking about you—"

Hermione went wide eyed. "Just saying—saying – how nice you look tonight."

Myrtle looked down at her robes. She look back at Hermione with a suspicious glint in her eyes. "You're making fun of me." Hermione could see the silver tears falling down her face.

"No—honestly—" She turned to Ron and Neville for help. "Didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?"

"Oh yeah—" Ron said slowly.

Neville nodded. "She did."

"Liar," Myrtle hissed. The tears were now flooding down her face. "Don't you think I know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle—"

"—this is the part where we leave—" Theodore whispered to Tobias, and the two Slytherins walked away.

"—Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!" The ghost then burst into sobs and fled from the dungeons. Peeves flew after here, laughing heartily and throwing peanuts at her.

"You've forgotten pimply Myrtle!" He called after her. " _Pimply, Pimply!_ "

"Oh, dear," Hermione said sadly.

* * *

 _Hello Tom_

 _Hello, Ginny. Why aren't you at the Halloween Feast?_

 _I left early—didn't want to get caught up in my brothers' pranks._

 _Good looking out. So you aren't doing anything for Halloween?_

 _No._

 _No pranks? No tricks?_

 _Nope._

 _Wonderful, because I need you to do something for me, Ginny._

* * *

Tobias and Theodore left the party early. Nearly Headless Nick's speech was a doozy and Theodore failed trying to convince Sir Patrick that Nick was a scary ghost. They were walking down the corridor towards the Great Hall, hoping to at least catch the end of the feast. The two boys were starving—there wasn't any fresh food at the Deathday party.

"Well that wasn't so bad." Theodore said, putting his hands in his pockets. "We met a few ghosts. Listened to some saws. I think it was good turnout for my first Deathday party—I wonder who is next. Tobias? Tobias?"

But the other Slytherin wasn't listening. He also wasn't standing by Theodore anymore. Tobias was rooted to the spot, his ears strained as he heard that airy, cold voice that he heard in Lockhart's office again.

"…. _soo hungry…..for so long"_

"Tobias, what are you—"

"Shut up, Theo—did you hear that?"

Theodore looked around. "Hear what?"

Tobias shook his head. "It's the voice."

" _…..kill….time to kill…."_

The voice was growing quieter. Whatever it was, it was moving. Tobias looked up at the ceiling, but there wasn't anything up there. There was no one around but him and Theodore. His grandfather had told him to ignore the voice, but Tobias couldn't—it was about to kill someone.

He began running down the corridor, Theodore at his heels. He had to find out who the voice belonged to, before it was too late.

"Tobias slow down," Theodore yelled behind him. "I'm running off a chocolate frog and a licorice wand! I can't run that fast."

Tobias ignored him as the voice met his ears again. " _….I smell blood….I SMELL BLOOD!"_

Tobias felt his heart stop but he kept running. "Come on, Theo! It's about to kill someone!"

"What?!"

Tobias whipped around the corner, stopping at the deserted passage. Theodore soon caught up, breathing heavily and gasping for air.

"What….the bloody hell… was that about?"

"Oh, no." Tobias said faintly.

Theodore looked up, his eyes growing wider at the sight. "Oh, no, is right."

On the wall in front of them, foot- high letters were shimmering on the wall. Tobias walked closer, watching as the letters revealed themselves more and more from the two torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

They were soon joined by five more guests. Ron, Neville, and Hermione, came from one way, and Zabini and Draco came from the other. Each of them stopped to stare at the writing on the wall. Hermione covered her mouth as she noticed something else. Zabini noticed it too, his face contorting in horror.

"What's that thing—hanging underneath?" Ron said, his voice shaking.

Tobias walked even closer, almost slipping on a puddle of water. He took a step closer, trying to identify the dark shadow hanging under it. He leaped back as he came in contact with two yellow eyes.

"It's Filch's cat." He said, turning to the other six.

Ron grabbed Hermione's arm. "We need to go now."

Hermione snatched her arm out of his hold. "Shouldn't we try and help—"

"No." Ron said quickly. "We don't want to be found here."

"Too late for that." Zabini said faintly.

And indeed it was. A rumble of voices and footsteps told the seven that the feast was over and that the rest of the students were heading towards their common rooms. Students came from every direction, stopping at the sight of the hanging cat and the writings on the wall.

Someone gasped, and there was a scream.

Theodore closed his eyes. "Why does it always happen on Halloween?"

 **Author's Note: And the purging begins! Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	25. COS9: Murder Mysteries

It's a thief in the night

To come and grab you

It can creep up inside you and consume you

A disease of the mind

It can control you

It's too close for comfort

~ Disturbia x Rihanna

Chapter 25: Murder Mysteries

Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on Lockhart's desk. All the professors and the seven students gathered in Lockhart's office, since his was the closest to the crime scene. Tobias watched as the many Lockharts ran out of their portraits, their hair wrapped in rollers and all of them dressed in purple silk pajamas. He and Theodore were sitting on one side of the office. Ron, Hermione, and Neville sat near the door by Professor McGonagall, and Draco and Zabini sat on the other side of the office, next to Professor Snape. The seven second years all exchanged looks that portrayed either fear or anger.

Dumbledore examined Mrs. Norris intently, his eyes scanning her head to toe. Zabini looked at the man with disgust as his nose was just inches away from the cat's fur. Ron almost gagged when the headmaster started poking at the cat. And it wasn't just Dumbledore who didn't have a problem being this close to it. McGonagall was just as close, her eyes narrowed. Professor Snape walked up behind them, eyeing the cat with a glint in his eyes that Tobias almost recognized as glee. And then there was Lockhart, walking around the three giving his "opinions" on what he believed happened.

"She's definitely dead." He said confidently. "And it was a curse that did it—probably the Transmogrifian Torture—I had an incident like this in Russia." He shook his head. "So unlucky that I wasn't there. I knew the exact countercurse that would've saved her."

While the rest of the professors ignored him, Filch began shaking with anger. Theodore watched as the caretaker's body shook furiously—if he shook any harder, he may just foam from the mouth. Theodore jumped when he saw Filch eyeing him darkly.

" _You!_ " He screeched, causing everyone to turn their attention to Theo. "You've murdered my cat! You've killed her!"

"I didn't touch your cat!" Theodore yelled back.

"I'll kill you!"

Theodore raised any eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

" _Argus._ " Dumbledore cut in, but the caretaker wasn't listening.

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

" _ARGUS!_ "

Mr. Filch then snapped out of his rage, his lip trembling. "My cat's been murdered. I want to see some _justice!_ "

"And you will, Argus." Dumbledore said calmly. "But please sit down. I need to check something and I need absolute silence."

Filch grunted but did as Dumbledore asked. The professor then turned back to Mrs. Norris, who was still laying there as if she had been stuffed with cotton. He pulled out his wand and began muttering words that Tobias didn't understand. But as he said these words, nothing happened.

"You know this reminds me of a case in Ouagadougou," said Lockhart. "Yes, yes, it was a series of attacks, all of it starting like this. Except it was a flying squirrel, not a cat. The full story's in my autobiography. I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, cleared the matter right up."

Draco rolled his eyes at Lockhart's story, but the portraits of him nodded in agreement.

"She's not dead." Dumbledore said softly, standing up straight once more.

"Well that isn't strange at all," Lockhart chuckled. "I had another case like this in South Africa—"

"Not dead?" Filch croaked. "But—but why's she all—stiff and frozen like that?"

"She has been petrified." The old professor replied.

Lockhart snapped his fingers. "Just as I thought! Same thing as South Africa."

Dumbledore continued to stare at the cat through his moon- shaped spectacles. "But I'm afraid I cannot tell you why."

Filch shot up again, pointing a sharp finger at Theodore. "Ask him!" He snarled.

Snape shook his head. "No second year could have done this," He said firmly. He now realized what the Dark Lord meant when he said he didn't want the heirs caught in the crossfire. But of course, the heirs found their way into the flames anyway. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advance—"

"No!" Filch spat, enraged once more. "He did it! He did it!"

"Your proof?" Snape asked, his eyebrow raised.

"You saw what he wrote on the wall!" Filch continued. "And this isn't the first thing he's taken from me!"

"I didn't take anything from you!" Theodore shot back.

Filch stalked closer to the boy. "Yes, you did! He took it—from my office—my kwikspell—he knows—he knows that I'm a—a—" Filch spluttered nervously, his body still shaking. "He knows I'm a Squib!"

Professor McGonagall furrowed her brow. "Mister Nott is this true?"

"He has no proof." Theodore pouted.

" _Mister Nott._ "

Theodore groaned. "Fine! I took his kwikspell! But that doesn't mean I touched his stupid cat!"

"Rubbish!" Filch hissed. "He's a liar and a thief."

"But where's the proof?" Theodore retorted back.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape said slowly, eyeing the four heirs. "Nott and the others may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time." He then looked back at the cat. "But given the circumstances, I have my suspicions. Why were _all_ of you in the upstairs corridor? I don't recall seeing any of you at the Halloween feast either."

"We were at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party!" Neville blurted out, his nerves getting the best of him. "There we hundreds of ghosts there—they'll tell you."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "But why not join the feast afterward? Why go up to that corridor?"

Neville squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "We heard someone…..screaming."

"Screaming?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Who was screaming?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't know. It sounded like a girl, though. We thought somebody may have been hurt."

Snape then turned to Draco and Zabini. "Any you two?"

"We were also at the party." Zabini answered, dusting off his trousers.

"And what were you doing upstairs?"

"We heard footsteps." Draco added in. "Somebody was running. We wanted to see who."

The potions professor then faced Tobias and Theodore. "And I can assume that you two were also at the party?"

Theodore nodded. "Correct."

"And afterward?"

Theodore sat back in his seat. "We wanted to watch the feast from that spot we found at the beginning of the term." He lied.

"But surely," Snape continued. "You were hungry. I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties."

"They don't" Theodore answered. "But me and Tobias weren't hungry."

"So you went to go _watch_ the feast?"

"Well, yeah. We wanted to see if anything was going to happen—you remembered what happened last year. Quirrell ran in like a lunatic screaming about a troll."

Snape nodded. "I remember."

McGonagall scoffed. "It's obvious that someone isn't telling the truth." She turned to the headmaster. "Given the nature of what is written on the wall, the Slytherin students need to be further investigated."

"And why is that, Minerva?" Snape sneered.

"Oh you know exactly why, Severus." The witch snapped back. "Or should we deprived your house team three of your Quidditch players until the truth comes out?"

Snape stepped forward. "That would be reasonable—if the cat had been hit over the head with a nimbus two- thousand and one. But seeing as we have no proof of that or any proof at all, that would be unnecessary." He then turned to Dumbledore. "There is no evidence that any of my students were involved in this attack."

Dumbledore scanned the heirs as if he was X-raying them. "Innocent until proven guilty, Minerva."

Professor McGonagall looked livid. Filch looked furious as well. He sprinted across the room, grabbing Theodore by his robes.

"You think you can kill my cat and get away with it?!" He said lowly. "We'll see about that." He then let go of the boy, his lip trembling once more.

Theodore dusted down his suit. "For the last time, I didn't _touch_ your bloody cat!"

"That's enough, Mister Nott." Dumbledore said sternly. "We will be able to cure her, Argus. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

Lockhart puffed out his chest, flaunting his robes. "I'll make it. I've done it at least a hundred times. I can whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep."

"No." Snape said shortly. "As I recall, I am the Potions master at this school."

"Of course, of course. But if you'd just allow me to assist you, I could—"

"No."

There was a long pause, and Theodore had to hold in the laugh that was begging to come out.

"You all may go," Dumbledore said to the second years. All of them rose, walking as quickly as they could to the door. When they were all outside, nobody said anything—they went their separate ways.

"Do you think I should have told them about the voice?" Tobias asked.

Theodore shook his head. "No way. Your grandfather told you not to—remember what he said? Even in the Wizarding world, hearing voices isn't a good sign."

"But you believe me? About me hearing them?"

"Of course, I do." Theodore said, clapping him on the back. "But ya know, it's kinda creepy and I will have distance myself from you if you pull another stunt like that again."

" _Theo._ "

"Kidding, kidding." Theodore skipped ahead. "But really, who do you think did it?"

"I don't know." Tobias shrugged. "But we know it wasn't one of us."

* * *

"What was that writing on the wall about?" Neville asked. " _The Chamber Has Been Opened_ ….What does that mean? What chamber?"

"It rings a bell." Ron said slowly, his face still red with anger. "I remember my brother Bill…or maybe it was Charlie… telling me about a secret chamber at Hogwarts."

"But who could've opened it?" Hermione asked.

Ron snorted. "Isn't it obvious—it was Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head. "He wouldn't do something like that. I think it was Zabini."

"Zabini? Kill a cat?" Ron laughed. "I doubt it."

"It could be anyone of them." Neville said. "It said _Enemies of the Heir Beware_ , but it didn't say which heir."

* * *

"Well, we know it wasn't us." Zabini said, his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't touch Filch's diseased cat if it was the last feline on Earth."

Draco nodded. "But who could it have been?"

Zabini rolled his eyes. "It's obvious, isn't it? _Enemies of the Heir Beware_? There are four heirs—we know it wasn't us, so that leaves LeStrange and Nott."

"Tobias and Theodore?" Draco asked skeptically. "No, they wouldn't do something like that."

Zabini chuckled. "Just as you thought they wouldn't turn against you."

Draco balled his fist. "I know them."

"You _think_ you know them." Zabini hissed. "But you really don't know them at all. You were sure they would be on your side—and now look. How are you _sure_ this isn't something they would do?"

Draco said nothing. He knew in his gut that Tobias and Theodore weren't the ones who mutilated Mrs. Norris, but something in his mind wouldn't let him grasp that thought. Maybe he really didn't know them at all.

* * *

The House of Black was noisier than it had ever been before. Molly Weasley was screaming her lungs out and Lupin was on edge—given that today was Halloween. Mad- Eye Moody wouldn't sit down, paranoid that if he did, something may attack him from behind. Tonks was nervous, tripping over and knocking over everything she came in contact with. Snape was even worried. It was happening again.

The Chamber of Secrets had been opened again.

"How are we even sure that this wasn't just some Halloween prank?!" Lupin argued. "Today is Halloween!"

Molly Weasley scoffed. "And what _child_ in this day and age is sick enough to joke about this?! A girl _died_ last time it was opened!"

Mad- Eye grunted in agreement. "This doesn't sound like a prank."

Lupin growled. "Maybe if you would _sit down_ , Alastor, you would see reason. The chamber has not been opened!"

"How do you know for sure?" Tonks asked nervously.

"Because," Snape cut in. "The heir of Slytherin would have to be at Hogwarts to open the chamber himself. And we all know who the last blood heir of Salazar Slytherin is."

"Last _blood_ heir." Molly corrected him. "Not the last heir."

Lupin snapped his head at the woman. "What are you saying?"

"There are four heirs of the Dark Lord." Mad- Eye said gruffly. "One of them being the Dark Lord's grandson."

"No." Lupin shook his head. "No. Harry did _not_ open the chamber!"

"We don't know that!" Molly shouted. "Voldemort could have appointed him to do it! Harry doesn't know what lies in the chamber—he wouldn't know!"

"He didn't do it." Lupin said lowly.

"Remus, please." Arthur cut in. "We aren't saying it _is_ him, but there really isn't anyone else to blame. It's been fifty years. We would've known if Voldemort stepped inside the castle."

"Well, now we know why all this commotion with the muggle- borns has been happening." Mad-Eye took a swig from his flask. "Somebody knew what was coming—whoever it was, they wanted to protect the students."

"If they wanted to protect the students," Professor McGonagall said tightly. "They would've told Dumbledore."

"Still don't trust me, Minerva?" Snape drawled.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Please tell me, Severus, how Lord Voldemort's most loyal and _trustworthy_ servant doesn't know about his plans?"

Lupin eyes flashed furiously. "You _knew_?!"

"I don't know anything." Snape snarled. "You all may not trust me—do you really believe I'm that _sick_ to let Voldemort unleash a beast unto the students?"

Everyone was silent.

"The Dark Lord instructed me to watch over the heirs. And just like the rest of you, I am also finding out why he asked me to do so."

Kingsley, who had been silent the whole meeting, finally spoke up. "So you don't think it's them?"

"No." Snape shook his head. "He must've known that we would point fingers at the boy or even the other heirs."

Mad- Eye sniffed. "Or maybe he did it to throw you off their trail."

"Or somebody else's." said Tonks.

"But we have no other suspects." Molly Weasley pointed out. "We're looking for a needle in a haystack. Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the table. He looked calmed, but he was infuriated. He was nervous—afraid even. It was happening again. The chamber of secrets had been opened again—there wasn't any real proof yet, but he knew in his gut that it would be some soon. And the culprit? The old professor agreed with Snape—it wasn't the heirs. He knew it once he saw their faces.

"We can't assume that the chamber has been opened, yet." Dumbledore said.

Mad- Eye's jaw clenched. "So we just wait until a muggle- born student gets petrified—or _dies_?"

"It's a risk we will have to take."

Molly's mouth dropped opened. "Dumbledore you can't be serious? The student's lives are in danger and you want to play the waiting game?"

Dumbledore looked at the distraught woman. "What do you impose I do?"

"Bring in the heirs!" She shouted. "One of them has to know _something_."

"And if they don't?"

"Then, I don't know! But we can't just sit here and do nothing."

* * *

The next few days were filled with gossip. The topic of it all: Filch's cat and the writings on the wall. Tobias had hoped that the news would die down, but thanks to the caretaker, it was still fresh on everyone's mind. Tobias had seen Filch pacing the spot where Mrs. Norris had been petrified—no doubt waiting for Theodore to come back for another "attack." Tobias made sure to keep Theo away from that part of the castle.

The attack had affected all of the seven second- years. Theodore stopped pulling Francis out in class—saying that he was afraid that his pet beetle would be the next victim. Neville was careful not to walk around the corridors by himself—he made sure he walked with a crowd or at least had Hermione or Ron with him. Draco kept a particularly close eye on Tobias and Theodore, watching for any suspicious actions. Zabini watched Draco closely, though the blonde heir didn't notice. To be honest, Zabini wasn't completely sure that it wasn't Draco—he could be the next victim. He continued to watch Draco throughout the day—making note of any strange behavior. He would have to report to Weasley to keep up his cover.

Ron was more protective than usual. He walked with Hermione everywhere and even went to walking some of the muggle- born first years to class. Whatever was about to happen, it was coming fast—and Ron had to make sure that the people he cared about didn't get hurt.

Hermione was reading more than usual—and that was saying something. No matter how many times Ron and Neville asked what she was up to, she wouldn't respond—her head stuck in a book. Though she suspected Zabini, she kept her distance from all of the Slytherin heirs. She wasn't sure what this whole secret chamber business was about—but she was determined to find out as soon as possible.

Tobias had it worse. All the Slytherins knew that he was the top heir—meaning that he was the first suspect. He was getting so many different responses—he didn't know what to do. One minute he was being congratulated, the next minute he was being scolded. It was even worse outside of the Slytherin common room. When Tobias walked into the library, he noticed Justin Finch- Fletchley walking towards him. Tobias was about to say hello when the Hufflepuff went wide- eyed and ran in the opposite direction. Rolling his eyes, Tobias walked further into the library.

He could hear the whispers coming from the tables as he passed by, but he ignored them. His only focus being the red- haired first year sitting at a table alone. He raised a brow as he realized that Ginny seemed off—her hair was frizzy instead of its smooth and straight nature. Her face was pale though she tried to hide it with her interest in a nearby book.

"Are you alright?" Tobias asked, causing Ginny to snap her head up from her book.

"Tobias! I—uhhh—what are you doing here?" Her face was turning pale again.

"I needed to do some work." The boy replied politely. "But my question."

"Oh!" Ginny said, fumbling with her robes. "I'm fine. Just a little shaken up, is all."

Tobias nodded. "From Halloween."

"Yeah." Ginny lied. "I'm a really big fan of cats. It hurt to see Mrs. Norris like that." Ginny looked back down at her book, refusing to make eye contact with the Slytherin. That wasn't the reason she was behaving like a loony toon. It happened again—she woke up in a corridor, with blood on her hands. She didn't remember how it got there or how she even got to this part of the castle. Once again her diary was tucked in her robes pocket. Tom told her that she must be sleepwalking, but that didn't stop Ginny from worrying.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, then." Tobias said. "I didn't know."

Ginny nodded quickly. "It's alright."

Tobias was about to say something, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. When he turned around, he staggered backward a bit as a fist came into contact with his cheek. Tobias's eyes frantically searched for the culprit, finally meeting eyes with Ronald Weasley.

"Trying to make my sister your next _victim_?" He seethed.

Tobias groaned in agony. "Are you mad?"

"Yeah I am." Ron spat. "Bloody furious."

Tobias pulled out his wand and Ron whipped out his. Tobias smirked. "Do you really want to do that again?"

Ron went red with embarrassment. He lowered his wand. "Just stay away from my sister."

Tobias scoffed. "I was just trying to see if she was alright."

"She's fine." Ron spat. "Now stay away from her."

"Are you really that _thick_? I didn't murder that cat, Ron."

"So you say. "

"Alright. Stop it."

Hermione stood in between them. One hand was holding a book, while the other was on Ron's chest, holding him back.

"Good, Hermione's here." Tobias said. "Now she can tell you how much of a dolt you're being."

"Tobias, you should leave." Said Hermione surprisingly.

Tobias looked confused. "But—"

"Now." The witch said shortly. Tobias narrowed his eyes at Ron and then at Hermione. He walked away, his robes swishing behind him. Hermione sighed sadly as the Slytherin walked away, but Ron was beaming.

"Glad you're finally seeing things from my point of view, Hermione." He said cheerfully.

Hermione frowned at him. "I am _not_ seeing things from _your side_. I just don't want my two friends fighting over something stupid."

"How can you still call him your friend?"

"Cause he _is_." Hermione snapped. "This is exactly what I was afraid of. Everyone turning against each other."

The Weasley boy rolled his eyes. "This is the first time you've talked to me in days, and you lecture me about friends."

"I've been busy." She said simply.

"Doing what?"

"I've been trying to read up on the Chamber of Secrets, but all the copies of _Hogwarts: A History_ have been checked out." She shook her head. "I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"The Chamber of Secrets?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"That's the thing. I don't remember. And the story isn't anywhere else."

Ron groaned. "Well, that's just great. But in other words, can I see your composition for Professor Binns?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you've had ten days to finish it."

"But I only need two more inches."

"No."

* * *

Theodore could barely stay awake in History of Magic. Binns was going on and on about the International Warlock Convention of 1289. The only exciting thing that happened so far was Hermione's and Ron's bickering as the students walked into the class. Theodore noticed Draco tensing up as Ron argued with her. Theo shook his head—idiot. Professor Binns had been going on for at least half an hour when the next exciting thing happened.

Everyone looked up to see that Hermione had her hand raised—something that she rarely did in History of Magic. Professor Binns looked amazed when he glanced up and saw Hermione's hand.

"Miss—er—?"

"Granger, Professor," Hermione said. "I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

Everyone's attention was grabbed then. Theodore jerked himself awake. Zabini sat up straighter, his ears strained for answers. Tobias stopped drawing in his book, while Ron choked on his spit. Neville's elbow slipped off the desk and Draco dropped his quill.

The ghostly professor blinked. "My subject is History of Magic, Miss Greenery. I deal with _facts,_ not myths and legends." He then turned back to the chalkboard, preparing to restart his lecture. But Hermione's hand went up again.

"Miss Grant?"

Hermione dropped her hand. "Please sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Binns stared at her in amazement. No one had ever interrupted his class, dead or alive. But here was Hermione Granger, challenging him in his own class.

"Well, yes," He replied. "One could say that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational,_ even _ludicrous_ tale—"

But even as he said this, the class was not convinced. Hermione had sparked everyone's interest, Binns had no choice but to give in.

"Oh very well." He tapped his forehead. "Now let's see….the Chamber of Secrets. Ah yes. Well you all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago. And that the houses that you all are divided into are named after the four founders—Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."

Theodore held a fist up. "Hail, Salazar."

"They built this castle away from the muggles, putting enchantments around the campus so no muggle could come across it. For years they lived in harmony, working amongst each other as they taught youngsters of magical potential. But over the years, disagreements came about—between Slytherin and the others."

"Of course." Ron grumbled.

"Salazar believed that magical learning should be kept in magical- families. Meaning purebloods—he despised any student of muggle percentage—half- bloods and muggle- borns. He saw them as untrustworthy and after a serious argument between him and Gryffindor, Slytherin left the school."

Binns then paused.

"Legend tells us that while Slytherin lived at Hogwarts, he built a secret chamber in the castle—a chamber which none of the other founders knew about. Legend also tells us that before Slytherin left, he closed the chamber, claiming that no one would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir, and the heir _alone_ , would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

The class was silent once Binns finished. Tobias could barely breathe—the chamber was opened again. Enemies of the heir—Salazar's heir. He looked to Theodore, Draco, and Zabini, who all had the same look on their face.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Binns said dismissively. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand shot up again. "Sir—what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

Binns sighed. "That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control."

Everyone exchanged nervous looks. Theodore seemed astonished.

"I can't even control Francis," He slapped his hands against his cheeks. "How can I control a whole monster?"

Tobias nudged him. "Hush, Theo."

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," said Professor Binns, turning back to the chalkboard. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But sir," Blaise Zabini asked curiously. "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find, would they?"

"Nonsense, Zucchini." Binns said irritably. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing—"

"But," Ron interrupted him. "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it—"

"Just because a wizard doesn't _use_ Dark Magic, doesn't mean he _can't_ , Mister Wallabee. Now I repeat, if Dumbledore couldn't—"

"Well maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin," said a Gryffindor named Dean Thomas. "so Dumbledore couldn't-"

"That is enough!" Binns said irritably. "It is a myth! It does not exist! Now, back to the International Warlock Convention of 1289."

And that was the end of that.

* * *

"Do you think there's really a Chamber of Secrets?" Neville asked.

"I don't know." Hermione said. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever—"

"—whoever—" Ron mumbled.

"- attacked her might not be—well—human."

The three Gryffindors were standing in front of the vandalized wall. Ron suggested that after class they should come and look for clues. The horrifying message was still written on the walls, but there was no petrified cat hanging below it. Ron was on the ground, looking for who knows what.

"Ronald, what are you expecting to find down there?" Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"Just some clues—aha! Look! Scorch marks."

"Come look at this!" Neville said, standing at the window across from the wall. Ron got up from the ground and walked over, Hermione beside him. Neville was pointing to the top of the window, where a small crack was visible. There was a trail of black spiders crawling through the crack, a few of them fighting for their turn. It looked as if they were hurrying to get outside.

"I've never seen spiders act like that before." Neville whispered. "Have you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Ron?"

When Ron gave no answer, Hermione turned around to notice that he was far away from the window. His face was pale and it looked like he wanted to run any minute.

"You okay, Ron?" asked Neville.

"I—um—" Ron began tensely. "I don't like spiders."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "But you've used them in potions loads of time."

"Well yeah," said Ron, looking up at the window. "I don't mind them dead. I just don't fancy the way they move."

Neville giggled, and Hermione had to repress her laughter.

"It isn't funny." Ron snapped. "If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my—my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick. You wouldn't like them either if one day you're holding your bear and it starts sprouting legs and….nevermind."

* * *

"Is there any reason why you wanted to come back _here_ in the middle of the night?" Theodore asked, holding his red stuffed duck in his arms.

Tobias was walking around the crime scene. "Any reason why you brought _that_?"

"Hey!" Theodore said defensively, clutching his duck. "Whiskers helps me sleep at night."

"But you aren't sleep Theo."

"Well I should be." Theodore pouted. "And what do you expect to find here? Everything's been cleaned up."

"Exactly." Tobias said. "Don't you remember, Theo? There was water on the ground when we found Mrs. Norris. Now it's gone."

"And?"

"I think I know where it came from." Tobias looked up, coming eye level with the girl's bathroom door. It had a large OUT OF ORDER sign on it, but Tobias and Theodore walked inside anyway.

"Well this is depressing." Theodore said as he walked in.

Tobias agreed, it looked as if no one had stepped in this bathroom in years. The sinks were chipped and the toilets were rusted. There were low burning candles and cracked mirrors. If Theodore knew any better, this sounded like the bathroom that—

"You two aren't _girls._ "

Moaning Myrtle was floating in front of them with her arms crossed. Tobias had no time to meddle with the ghost, so he got straight to the point.

"That seems obvious." Tobias said. "But we came to ask you something."

Myrtle sniffed. "Are you sure you haven't come to make fun of me?"

Theodore groaned. "Yes, Myrtle, we got up in the middle of the night to make fun of you. It's my favorite pastime when I can't sleep."

"No need to be sarcastic." The ghost hissed.

"No need to be an intolerable swot." Theodore shot back, receiving a thump on the back of his head from Tobias.

"We wanted to know if you saw anybody come near the bathroom on Halloween night." Tobias explained quickly. "You know there was a cat attacked right outside your door, don't you?"

"I didn't see anything." Myrtle sniffed. "I was too busy trying to kill myself—Peeves upset me so badly that night I couldn't take it anymore."

Theodore snorted. "And how did that work for you?"

"I failed. Seeing as I'm already dead."

"Not dead enough." Theodore grumbled.

* * *

"MALFOY! ZABINI!"

Zabini cursed himself as he and Draco were about to open the door to the girls bathroom. He had received news from Crabbe and Goyle that LeStrange and Nott weren't in their beds. Zabini immediately woke Draco and they both went to search for the other two heirs. Just as they reached the crime scene, Zabini heard voices coming from the girls' bathroom—no doubt it was Tobias and Theodore. But before they could reach the door, they were caught by the Gryffindor Prefect, Percy Weasley.

"That's a _girls'_ bathroom!" He roared. "What are you two doing near it?"

Zabini smirked. "The better question is what are _you_ doing here?"

Percy glared at the boy. "I'm doing my Prefect rounds. And good thing I was, too. You are out of bed passed curfew."

"And so are you Weasley." Draco sneered. "Seeing as your rounds ended two hours ago."

Percy went red. "How do you—"

"This is how it's going to be, Percy." Zabini interrupted. "You're going to tell us what you're doing here, or we're going to tell Professor Snape that you're out of bed."

"Snape isn't my head of house." Percy laughed.

"But Snape is _one_ of the head of houses." Draco said. "And as much as he hates seeing his precious Slytherins in trouble, he loves seeing the Gryffindors, especially prefects, fall from grace."

" _You wouldn't dare._ "

"We would." Zabini smiled.

Percy looked between the two Slytherins. "Fine! I was here to check out the scene. My sister, Ginny, she's been on edge since the Halloween incident. I wanted to see the place for myself—so I can assure her that nothing was wrong."

At the sound of Ginny's name something snapped inside Zabini.

"I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business—"

" _You_ don't care about Ginerva." Zabini said darkly. "You only cares about your status so you can be Head Boy next term."

Percy seemed flabbergasted. "Don't you dare question my love for my sister! I'll take points."

"He's bluffing." Draco said, folding his arms across his chest. "Now what did you find?"

"I—I—" Percy huffed. "I found nothing. Filch cleaned up the place."

* * *

The next day came and Ron, Neville, and Hermione were sitting in the library. Hermione had just finished explaining to the two boys her plan to find out who the real heir of Slytherin was.

"And you're sure this will work?" said Ron. "This polyjuice stuff sounds dodgy to me."

Neville nodded. "What if we get stuck looking like Slytherins forever?"

"We _won't_." Hermione assured them. "It wears off after a while."

"And you're sure that Malfoy won't know it's us?" Ron asked.

"Positive."

* * *

"And you're sure Zabini won't know it's us?" Theodore said, pacing the room. "These good looks aren't easily disguised."

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Yes, Theo. Polyjuice potion makes the drinker look _exactly_ like the person they want to be disguised as."

"Okay, okay. Where'd you get that book anyway?"

Tobias was sitting on the floor, reading a copy of _Most Potente Potions._ "Restricted Section."

Theodore stopped pacing. "But how?"

"I have an invisibility cloak, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

"And Snape just gave you the book?" Draco asked, watching as Zabini flipped through the pages of the potions book.

Zabini nodded. "You ask too many questions, Draco. Do you want to find out who's behind the attacks or not?"

Draco sat down beside him. "Of course I do, it's just—are you sure Tobias won't notice that I'm not Theodore? And that Theodore won't notice that you aren't Tobias?"

Zabini sighed, becoming irritated with the blonde Slytherin's doubts. "Well, we will find out in a month won't we?"

Draco's mouth fell open. "A month?"

" _More questions_."

"It takes a month to make it?!" Draco continued.

Zabini closed the book. "Yes, Malfoy. Polyjuice potion is a very fragile and delicate potion. If one tries to rush the process, or skip steps—the result can be irreversible."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that you will look like Nott for the rest of your life. And we certainly don't need two of him walking around the castle."

Draco swallowed. "Right. Right."

 **Author's Note: I know I'm spoiling you all with these back to back chapters, but I've had so much time on my hands! How will this all play out? Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	26. COS10: Bludgers

Take a little break, little break

From your silencing

There is so much you can take, you can take

I know how bad you need a Roman holiday

~ Roman Holiday x Nicki Minaj

Chapter 26: Bludgers

"Professor is there any reason why you brought us here?"

Tobias and Theodore sat on the other side of Dumbledore's desk. The old professor had found the two boys in the corridors after their potions lesson and brought them to his office. Theodore was particularly excited, seeing as he guessed Dumbledore's secret entry to his office correctly last term. But now here they were, sitting in the headmaster's office and the reality of everything was sinking in. Tobias felt his hands start to sweat and Theodore wouldn't stop hiccupping.

Dumbledore looked at the two boys through his half- moon spectacles. Theodore turned his attention to the many portraits of former headmasters on the wall, uncomfortable with meeting Dumbledore's gaze.

"I needed to talk to the heirs."

Tobias frowned. "But it's only two of us here."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Correct. I needed to speak to you two, _alone._ "

" _Wanky._ " Theodore mumbled, causing Tobias to nudge him in the ribs. But despite Theo's inappropriate comment, the headmaster only chuckled again.

"It would be foolish to bring Mister Malfoy and Mister Zabini here, seeing as you four have two different stories."

Theodore mouthed an "oh" while Tobias interest was captured. He leaned forward in his seat.

"You don't think we did it, do you, professor?" The boy asked curiously.

Theodore groaned. "For Salazar's sake, I didn't touch Filch's cat."

"No, I don't think you two did it." Dumbledore said calmly, causing Theodore to sigh with relief. "But I wanted to ask you two some questions."

Theodore raised his hand. "I will warn you. I am a compulsive liar."

"No worries, Mister Nott." Dumbledore chuckled again. "There is always truth in magic."

"So you can read minds?" Theodore said amazed. He smirked at Tobias. "I told you."

Tobias ignored him. "The questions, professor?"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore spun in his office chair. "The questions. As you may have heard, or seen, Hogwarts has seen a decline in muggle- born students."

The two Slytherins nodded.

"And I can assume you two are familiar with the legend of the Chamber of Secrets?"

The students nodded again.

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Then you are aware that your house and your family names have been built on the prejudice of muggle- borns?"

"I don't like where this is going." Theodore said.

"Yes, sir." Tobias answered. "We know."

"Excellent." The professor continued. "So now I must ask you, since you two are the heirs of the Sacred Twenty- Eight families—have you seen or heard anything that may pertain to the recent attack on Filch's cat?"

Tobias felt his stomach tighten. His mind went to the voices he had been hearing—the voice he heard the night on Halloween. His mind then travelled further to when they all found out Lucius Malfoy had a plan against the muggle- borns. It went even further to when Hermione told them all about her visit from the Malfoys' house elf, Dobby. He wanted to tell Dumbledore—he really did. Hermione's life was in danger. But his grandfather's words trumped him.

 _Do not tell the headmaster._

Tobias saw that Theodore was battling with the same thing. Tobias finally swallowed, sitting up straight.

"No, sir." He said as casually as he could. "We haven't heard anything."

Theodore nodded in agreement. "Haven't heard a thing."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Are you two sure?"

Tobias nodded. "Positive."

"You both know that withholding information could lead to the muggle- born students being in terrible danger, don't you?"

Tobias felt that lump in his throat again. "Yes sir, we know."

"And if we find out anything, we'll be sure to tell you." Theodore added in.

Dumbledore stared at the two boys, once again with that look as if he was seeing through their very being. Theodore squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and Tobias tried not to make eye contact with the headmaster. After a few moments, Dumbledore sat back in his chair, taking off his spectacles.

"Very well then." He said. "You two may go."

Just like on Halloween, the two Slytherins practically ran out of Dumbledore's office. As the door closed, the old professor sighed, turning in his seat to face the portraits of the former headmasters on the wall. He eyed Headmaster Dippet's portrait, who was eyeing him irritably.

"Save it." Dumbledore said tiredly. "I know they were lying."

Dippet huffed. "It's happening again, Albus. You know it, I know it. You know what happened the last time we tried to ignore it—a student died."

"I am aware of what happened last time." Dumbledore replied irritably. "But it wasn't them."

"But they know _something_. Even if it wasn't them, it _is_ a student. It was a student last time, and it's a student this time."

"You're making assumptions."

Dippet scoffed. "You're the one to talk about assumptions. You knew it was Riddle who opened the chamber last time, yet you let him off the hook—just like you've done with LeStrange and Nott."

Dumbledore sighed, wiping his spectacles against his robes.

"I'm not saying it is them." The former headmaster continued. "But must we allow history to repeat itself, Albus? How long must we wait, before it's too late?"

* * *

Blaise was sitting in the library, working on his essay for McGonagall. But he couldn't focus—something was burning in his veins. Something snapped inside of him during his confrontation with the Weasley prefect. He had defended the Weasley girl—something he still couldn't understand. He hated the Weasleys—he despised their very being. They were blood traitors—a disgrace to all purebloods alike. Yet, something ached in his chest when he thought of Ginny. He looked up, and he could see her red locks from across the library. He couldn't see her face, but he felt that ache again. He shook his head, trying to snap himself out of this trance, but he failed. The memory was now burned into his mind—he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to start on his essay again.

"I know, Blaise."

Zabini snapped his head up, coming face to face with Pansy Parkinson. He smirked, but deep down inside his heart was thumping with embarrassment. Had Pansy seen him staring at Ginny Weasley?

"And what is that Parkinson?" He asked curiously, setting his quill down on the table.

Pansy crossed her arms. "I know about your little plan, you manipulative little git."

Zabini's smirk grew wider, satisfied that his troubles would remain unknown. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, who were throwing paper balls at some first years. "Leave us." He said. His two cronies then got up and left the library. Blaise then turned to Pansy. "Sit."

Pansy pulled out a chair. As she sat down, her arms were still crossed over her chest and her legs were crossed. She watched as Crabbe and Goyle left.

"I see you have them well trained." She said primly.

Zabini shrugged. "Well, dogs will be dogs. But back to you—what is my plan?"

"Your plan to turn Tobias and his friends against each other. I saw you talking to Weasley the other day—and you think nobody's noticed your newest addition to your little gang?"

"Gang is such a violent term." Zabini chuckled. "I prefer friend group."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. What you're doing is sick and evil."

"Sick and evil are my specialties."

"I'm telling Tobias."

Zabini laughed. "So you two are talking again now? Word is you're still upset with him about flying a car to get his education."

Pansy smirked. "Thanks to you, we'll be talking real soon."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Pans."

"And why is that?"

Zabini then closed his book, leaning over the table where only Pansy could hear him. "Because I know about your little secret."

The Slytherin girl felt her heart drop, but she didn't show it on her face. "What are you talking about?"

"Playing the clueless game, are we?" Zabini smiled nastily. "I know that you have a crush on LeStrange and that he won't give you the time of day because he has a crush on the Weasley girl."

Pansy was silent. Zabini chuckled again.

"Tell me, Parkinson. How does it feel to know your betrothed would rather be with a blood traitor than you?"

That was it. Pansy pulled out her wand, the tip of it touching Zabini's chin. The tan Slytherin smirked, unbothered by the fact that her wand was touching her very skin. She was letting him get to her—she seriously hated Zabini. This was what he wanted.

"Do it." Zabini dared. "And I'll tell everyone about your little crush. Tobias will never look at you the same way again."

Pansy gritted her teeth. "Not if I hex your mouth off." Blaise smiled wider.

"Either way, I win. Now you're going to be a good girl and keep your mouth shut, or we can both be blabber mouths. And trust me, my news will be way more satisfying than yours."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't." Blaise said bluntly, falling back in his chair. "Manipulative little git, remember?"

Pansy sat back in her chair, realizing that she was attracting attention with her wand being out now that Zabini wasn't in her face anymore. She was fuming with anger, and fear—she couldn't let anyone find out she had a crush on Tobias. Zabini seemed to know this—that cocky smirk on his face. He reopened his transfiguration book.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut, Parkinson." He said as he flipped through the pages of his book. "My lips are sealed."

/

"He isn't serious." Draco said as Lockhart set the brown leather writing pad on his desk.

The Dark Arts professor was walking around the room, giving each and every student a brown leather writing pad just like Draco's. His last few classes had been pure crap—he had the students acting out scenes from his books. Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione seemed the most excited about her role as a frightened townswoman as Theodore played a werewolf. Lockhart then demonstrated how he took down the werewolf, which almost ended in Theodore breaking his arm.

And now today, out of nowhere, Lockhart announced that the students would be doing a diary project.

"When I was a lad, I always wrote down my most fantastic moments in a diary." Lockhart explained. "These diaries then helped me write my books, which I must say—are fantastic as well."

"Are you sure you didn't steal someone else's?" Theodore asked.

Lockhart laughed. "Very funny, Mister Nott."

"He didn't deny it." Theo whispered to Tobias.

Hermione raised her hand. "Excuse me sir, but what exactly are we supposed to write in these?"

"Anything!" The professor exclaimed. "The point of this assignment is to express yourself."

"And how is expressing ourselves going to help us defend against dark wizards?" Zabini asked.

"Very good question, Blaise. And that is a question I don't have an answer to, yet."

Theodore frowned. "I better get an O on this assignment."

When Lockhart finished passing out the diaries, he sat on top of his desk. "Your first assignment will be to write a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! This will be your first step into expressing your inner talents—the winner will receive a signed copy of _Magical Me._ "

The bell then was rung, and the students made their way out of the classroom, each of them mumbling about the diary project. As the classroom cleared out, three students remained in their seats. Hermione, Ron, and Neville waited patiently, their plan to corner Lockhart once the classroom was empty.

Hermione got up first, walking nervously to Lockhart's desk. She had a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. Ron and Neville were right behind her—both of them nervous as well.

"Er—Professor Lockhart?" She said timidly.

Lockhart looked up, beaming at the witch. "Ah, Miss Granger! What can I do for you?"

Hermione blushed. "I wanted to—to get a book out of the library. Just for some background reading—for the diary project." She slid the paper onto Lockhart's desk, her hands trembling.

"But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it—I'm sure it would help me understand what you did when conquering the Wagga Wagga Werewolf with slow- acting venom—"

"Ah yes." Lockhart said gleefully. He took the note, smiling widely at the Gryffindor. "That has to be my very favorite accomplishment. Read all about it, didn't you?"

"Oh yes," Hermione smiled back. "So clever, the way you trapped it in the cellar and—"

"— _Hermione—_ " Ron whispered urgently.

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help." Lockhart pulled out his lilac ink quill. Ron made a face at the quill, but Lockhart seemed to mistake his look of disgust for astonishment. "Yes, nice, isn't it? Made from real peacock feathers—from Turkey. I usually save it for book signings."

He scribbled his signature on the paper and handed back to Hermione. The three then scurried out of the classroom, trying their best to make it out of the room before Lockhart realized what he had just signed. Their hearts were pounding from the adrenaline pumping through their veins. They couldn't believe what just happened.

"I don't believe it." Neville said excitedly as they half ran, half- walked to the library. "He didn't even _look_ at the book we wanted it."

Ron shook his head. "That's because he's a brainless _git._ No regular teacher would've signed that—but who cares? We got what we needed."

"He is _not_ a brainless git," Hermione snapped.

"Oh really?" Ron retorted. "Hermione you're a terrible liar, and Lockhart believed your story. _You needed a potions book to write a poem?_ Flitwick would've been able to see through that."

"Shut up, Ron."

* * *

"Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, knotgrass….where the bloody hell are we going to get these from?"

Theodore and Tobias were in a deserted broom closet reading _Most Potente Potions_ again. They needed a spot where no one would suspect them to be. They once thought about going back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom but decided it would be too suspicious—seeing as they were both boys. Theodore found the broom closet on the way back to the Slytherin common room—it was completely empty and looked as if nobody used it in years.

Tobias flipped through the pages. "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen. Most of these ingredients we can get ourselves, but powdered horn of a bicorn, shredded skin of a boomslang—that's all in Snape's cupboard."

Theodore plopped down on a bucket. "Tobias I really don't want to die yet."

"We aren't."

"We're going to have to break into Snape's cabinet—and if we get caught—"

"We _won't_." said Tobias. "Invisibility cloak remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." Theodore said dismissively. "But I feel like Snape has like, X- ray powers or something, and it makes me paranoid."

" _Paranoid?_ "

"I have things under these robes that no other man should see."

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Fine, we won't use the cloak. But we'll need a distraction."

* * *

Draco and Zabini had resorted to brewing the potion in Zabini's dorm. Crabbe and Goyle were sent to guard the door when they tended the potion throughout the day—preventing anyone else from barging in and realizing what they were doing.

"How am I supposed to get a lock of their _hair_?"

Zabini rolled his eyes. "Again with the questions."

Draco was pacing the room. "They won't even talk to me. How am I going to get close enough to get their hair?"

"Leave that to me." Zabini said, flipping through the pages. "Good thing that's the last thing we have to add."

"And the rest of the ingredients, where are we going to get that from?"

Zabini flipped another page. "I already have them."

Draco stopped. "How?"

"Connections, Malfoy."

The blonde Slytherin groaned. "And what about Dumbledore? There's no doubt he thought we were lying!"

Zabini closed the book. "That won't be a problem once we find out who the real heir of Slytherin is."

"Look, I know you're tired of me asking questions—"

"—which I am—" Zabini said under his breath. He stood up and walked over to his bed where he took off his sweater, revealing his white oxford and Slytherin tie.

"—but what if it isn't them?" Draco asked. Zabini sighed—Malfoy was still having his doubts about LeStrange and Nott, which was making it even harder for Zabini's plan to be set in stone.

"Let's get one thing straight, Draco." The tan Slytherin said as he loosened his tie. " _You_ aren't friends with them anymore—meaning you shouldn't _care_ about them."

"Is that why you defended Ginny Weasley to Percy?"

Blaise hesitated with his tie but refused to make eye contact with the other Slytherin. "I wasn't defending her—I was exploiting Weasley's pathetic excuse to use his family to gain higher power."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "But pureblood families do it all the time."

"The point is, Malfoy." Zabini gritted his teeth. "I don't have a crush on the Weasley girl."

The blonde Slytherin smirked. "I never said you did."

* * *

Saturday morning came and it was the start of the Quidditch season. The first game was, once again, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. Tobias laid in his bed, his mind drifting to the game. Practice had been well—but he was still nervous about it. Not only was this the biggest game of the season, but Tobias wasn't even talking to part of the team. Draco wouldn't even talk to him, and Zabini barely paid him any attention. There was no team chemistry—only tension.

Tobias ate breakfast with Theodore at the Slytherin table. Moments like this he would've loved to be sitting with Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Ron—they usually cheered him up before the big game. He and Theodore barely said a word to each other, and the weather didn't make it any better. It was cloudy and every now and then you could hear a faint clap of thunder. Tobias looked over to see that Draco wasn't talking much either, but Zabini, as always, was running his mouth about something. He didn't even looked bothered that this was the biggest match of the season.

Eleven o' clock came and everyone started to make their way down to the Quidditch pitch. Theodore and Pansy wished Tobias good luck before making their way to the stands. When Tobias entered the locker room, Flint was already dressed and standing before the rest of the team, preparing to give his pre- game speech.

"Listen, guys. We've got this in the bag." He began. "We have faster brooms, better players, and better techniques. Those Gryffin- losers don't stand a chance." He then turned to Tobias. "It's up to you LeStrange, it's always been up to you. Catch the snitch and win us the game. Alright?"

Tobias nodded. "Right."

As they walked out onto the field, the familiar sounds of screams and jeers filled the stadium. At that moment Tobias seemed to come alive—he had been waiting all term for this moment. He could see Theodore screaming his heart out and the rest of Slytherin house waving hand- made signs and house flags. Right then, Tobias decided that nothing else mattered, only the match. Only his hands against the wood of his broom and the desire of feeling the cool metal of the snitch in his hand.

"THIS LEE JORDAN COMING TO YOU LIVE FROM HOGWARTS STADIUM! TODAY'S MATCH: GRYFFINDOR VERSUS SLYTHERIN!"

The two teams met on the field, and Flint and Wood shook hands. Madam Hooch stood between them, the quaffle clutched in her hand. She looked at the two teams, gesturing for them to mount their brooms. Tobias looked over to Draco, and for the first time since September, Draco made eye contact with him. He didn't say anything but nod to him, and Tobias felt a small sense of comfort.

"On my whistle," Madam Hooch said. "Three…two…one… "

The whistle was blown and both teams shot up into the air. Tobias shot straight up, staying above the action to watch out for the snitch. The Gryffindor seeker flew next to him, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Aye, LeStrange," he shouted. "Try not to kill anyone, okay?"

Tobias ignored him. The Gryffindor seeker was about to open his mouth again when a Bludger came zooming towards them both. Tobias's eyes grew wider as he realized the Bludger was coming straight for him. He dodged it by an inch, the ball roughly ruffling his hair.

"What the hell?" The Gryffindor seeker said. "What're you playing at?"

"That wasn't me." Tobias shouted back.

Adrian Pucey then flew pasted them both. "You alright there, Tobias?" He smacked the Bludger as hard as he could, aiming it towards one of the Weasley twins.

"Yeah," Tobias breathed out. "I'm fine. LOOK OUT!"

The Bludger was coming back towards Tobias. He dropped lower before the ball made the impact, and Adrian whacked it back towards the other side of the field, but the Bludger only shot back around towards the Slytherin seeker. Tobias gulped.

"You gotta move now!" Adrian shouted, and Tobias didn't think twice as he leaned forward, zooming towards the other end of the Quidditch pitch. Even as he flew what he felt like was a hundred miles per hour, he could still hear the Bludger whistling behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never focused on one person.

There was a clap of thunder and the rain began to pour down. Tobias could barely see, his heart thumping against his chest as he searched desperately for the snitch. He could hear Lee Jordan's voice over the intercom.

"SLYTHERIN LEAD, SIXTY TO ZERO! MAN THOSE NIMBUS TWO- THOUSAND AND ONES ARE FAST!"

Draco was squinting his eyes, from afar it looked as if he was flying with his eyes closed. He had the quaffle tucked under his arm, heading straight for Wood. He was almost there when something hit his leg, and he heard a loud crack. He was now falling, the rain splashing against his face and the pain of his leg growing worse.

Hermione watched him from the stands through her binoculars. She had charmed them so she could see the match clearly in the rain. She saw the bludger hit Draco's leg, and from the way he was falling, she could tell it was broken.

"Oh my god." She breathed out.

"AND MALFOY IS DOWN FOR THE COUNT!"

Tobias watched as his cousin fell to the ground. He held his breath as he watched the bludger shoot at his leg—something was going on.

"What's going on?!" Flint roared.

Adrian whacked the bludger as it launched itself towards Tobias. "Somebody's tampered with this bludger. It's going after the heirs—we need to call a time out!"

"NO!" Flint shouted back. "We're in the _lead_."

"Are you mad?! One of our chasers just fell out of the bloody sky!"

"I'll be fine." Tobias said timidly. "I won't be able to catch the snitch with you flying around me Adrian—go back to the rest of the team."

Adrian scoffed. "So you can die by bludger?"

"He's right." Flint nodded. "Go back with the rest of the team—"

"—but—"

"GO!" The quidditch captain then turned back to Tobias. "Do what you have to. Win us the game."

Tobias nodded and kicked back into the air. The bludger was now after Blaise, but the tan Slytherin was doing a good job dodging the possible blow. But the tan Slytherin then flew by Tobias, and he had to do a quick drop as the bludger almost slammed against his face. He heard the bludger whoosh around and begin speeding towards him again. Knowing he couldn't stay in one place, Tobias leaned forward and zoomed across the Quidditch field. He ducked and dodged the bludger, having near misses every now and then. With the rain pouring harder, Tobias had to use all his force to keep his broom going—the weight of his wet clothes now sticking to him.

But even through the rain, the Slytherin seeker could still spot the small golden ball fluttering in the air. The snitch. Tobias felt his heart drop, this was the moment—but he waited a moment too long.

WHAM.

The bludger had caught up with him and smashed against his elbow. Tobias felt his arm break, but he hung in midair, unwilling to fall like Draco did. Dizzy and barely being able to function because of the pain, he sped towards the snitch—his body sideways on his broom and his broken arm dangling at his side.

He leaned forward, pushing his nimbus two- thousand and one to the limit. He outstretched his unbroken arm—within inches of the snitch. He snagged the snitch before everything went black. He felt himself falling through the air—the gasps and screams filling his ears just as they did when Malfoy fell. He hit the ground with a thud, the mud splattering everywhere.

"Move! Move!" He heard Flint shout.

"Out of the way! Out of the way!" Theodore screamed. " _Bestfriend_ coming through!"

Tobias opened his eyes to see the Slytherin Quidditch team crowded around him. He could also see Pansy and Theodore trying to push their way through the crowd, moving towards the front.

Tobias smirked, lifting up the snitch. "I caught it." He croaked.

Theodore threw his hands up in disbelief. "Oh, bloody hell."

The crowds parted again as another figure came to the front. From the magenta robes and the flashy white blur, Tobias knew the figure to be Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Excuse me, excuse me." He said. "Professional healer coming through."

Theodore scoffed. "You're a doctor?"

Tobias frowned, shaking his head against the mud. He tried to crawl away, but it the pain took over him. "No, not you."

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart chuckled to the surrounding crowd. "Don't worry Tobias. I am about to fix your arm."

" _No!_ "

"I second that notion." Theodore said in the background. "Oi! Put that camera away, Creevy!"

"Stand back." Lockhart was beginning to roll up his sleeves.

Tobias was losing his vision again. "No—don't—" But it was too late. As Lockhart's wand touched his arm, Tobias felt a strange and tingly feeling flow from his shoulder to his fingers. Once it was done, he was satisfied that he couldn't feel the pain anymore, but then again, he couldn't even feel his own arm. He looked down at his arm, it looked the same, but as he lifted it from the ground, his hand fell limp like jelly, and Tobias soon realized that all his bones had been removed.

"Ewwwww." The crowd around him said.

"Oooooo." Theodore said excitedly. "Me next."

Lockhart smiled nervously. "Ah, well, see—that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken."

"There aren't any bones left!" Pansy hissed, looking down at the boy with a great deal of concern.

The Dark Arts professor nodded. "Well, that's the thing to bear in mind. So, Tobias, just toddle up to the hospital wing—ah, Mister Nott and Miss Parkinson would you escort him?"

Theodore pretended to rub his imaginary goatee. "What's in it for me?"

" _Theo._ " Pansy hissed again.

The Slytherin groaned. "Fine. Come on, Jelly boy."

Theodore and Pansy then helped Tobias up. The dark- haired Slytherin sloppily threw his jelly arm around Theodore's shoulder. He didn't want to look at his hand, seeing as it now looked like something he could sell at Borgin and Burkes.

"You think he'll do my legs next?" Theodore whispered. "Nevermind. Your arm jelly is making me feel uncomfortable."

* * *

Hermione could barely sleep that night. Draco and Tobias were in the hospital with what should have been a broken leg and a broken arm, but thanks to Lockhart, all their bones were removed and now they had to spend the night in the hospital wing growing their bones back. She didn't blame Lockhart though—it was common for complicated spells such as these to go wrong every now and then. And in a sense, he did _fix_ their broken bones.

But that wasn't the reason Hermione was up in the middle of the night. The bludger was the reason she was up worrying. No doubt the bludger had been tampered with. According to _Quidditch: Throughout the Ages,_ the bludger isn't supposed to lock itself on one person—or three. But this bludger was going after Draco, Tobias, and Zabini—three of the four heirs. If Theodore had been on the team, Hermione assumed the bludger would've went after him too.

The question was: Who tampered with it? When she saw it going after Tobias first, she thought it may have been Zabini—or even Draco. But once she saw the bludger break Draco's leg, her assumptions broke with it. For a split second she thought it may have been Theodore, but she remember she took his wand before the match for good measure.

Her thinking ceased as she heard movement at the end of her four poster bed. She quickly and quietly reached for her wand. She felt a figure crawl onto her bed, and her heart started to pound against her chest. What if it was the monster? What if she was the next victim?

She then heard a faint squeak and the fluff of a pillowcase and thought otherwise.

" _Lumos_."

Her eyes went wide when she noticed that her nighttime intruder was none other than Dobby the house elf. He looked miserable—and that was new for a house elf.

"Dobby?" She whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione Granger came back to school." He whispered back softly. "Dobby warned Hermione Granger that coming back to Hogwarts was a bad idea. Why didn't Hermione Granger listen to Dobby? Why didn't Hermione Granger go back home when she missed the train?"

Hermione lowered her wand. "How do you know that I missed the train?"

Dobby's lip trembled, and Hermione had to hold back her urge to scream and hex the elf at the same time. She also had that strange feeling in her stomach that she got when Theodore was right about something.

"It was _you_!"

"Yes," Dobby nodded vigorously. "Dobby hid and watched as Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Sir Malfoy couldn't get through the barrier—Dobby sealed it." He held out his hands, which were bandaged. "Dobby had to iron his hands afterward, but Dobby didn't care, he thought Hermione Granger was safe—but never did Dobby dream that Hermione Granger would get to school another way!"

He began rocking back and forth, and Hermione didn't know if she should hold the elf together or not.

"Dobby was so shocked when he heard Hermione Granger and the rest of the muggle- born students were back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn!"

Hermione slumped back into her pillow. "You almost got Theodore, Tobias, and Ron expelled!"

Dobby shook his head. "And Dobby is so sorry! But Dobby had to make sure Hermione Granger didn't get to Hogwarts. But Dobby had a new plan—and is hoping that Hermione Granger has decided to leave."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dobby thought that his bludger would make Hermione Granger want to go home—when she saw her friends get hurt. Dobby thought she would feel like she isn't safe at school."

" _Your_ bludger!" Hermione didn't even realize that her voice was now rising over her whisper. "Dobby you almost killed them!"

"Not kill them," Dobby whimpered. "Never to kill them! Dobby wants to save Hermione Granger's life!"

"By hurting my _friends_." Hermione seethed.

"Ah, if only Hermione Granger knew!" Dobby groaned, tears falling onto his pillowcase. "If she knew what terrible things are to happen, and are perhaps happening already—Hermione Granger would understand. Hermione Granger must know that history is about to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more—"

Dobby stopped immediately, obviously saying something he wasn't supposed to. Hermione wasn't surprised when Dobby started banging his hands against his head chanting "Bad Dobby, Bad Dobby."

Hermione sat back up and grabbed his hands. Gaining control of her voice again she began whispering. "So there _is_ a Chamber of Secrets? And what do you mean it's been opened before?"

Dobby shook his head. "Please don't ask more of poor Dobby. Dobby's master has forbade him to tell. But Hermione Granger must go home, Hermione Granger must not meddle in this, 'tis too dangerous—"

"I don't care!" Hermione whispered furiously. "Who is it, Dobby? If you tell me who it is, I can tell Dumbledore, and the Chamber will be closed."

"Dobby can't tell, Dobby mustn't tell!"

"Dobby if you don't tell me, I may be next—and everyone will blame my friends for it. If there's even a chance they're innocent—"

Dobby squealed. "—Dobby has to leave—"

Hermione panicked. "No Dobby!"

"Hermione Granger must go home! Hermione Granger must save herself!" There was a soft crack and Dobby was gone. She fell back into her pillow, her bushy hair splattering around the pillowcase. She covered her face in her hands and sighed.

* * *

"Get Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore whispered.

Tobias could hear Professor McGonagall hurry past his hospital bed. He heard a door open and then close, and the sounds of more feet walking across the hospital wing. It had to be at least midnight, or maybe even earlier than that—he wasn't sure. The Skele-Gro knocked him out immediately after he drank it, though it tasted like something Theodore made over the summer by mixing pumpkin juice and lake water.

Draco was also awake. He was still bloody pissed that Lockhart removed all the bones in his leg, but he forgot about all that as he watched Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey run past his bed. Everyone's voices sounded urgent. What had happened?

"What happened?" He heard Madam Pomfrey whisper. He watched her bend over what seemed to look like a statue on the hospital bed across from his and Tobias's.

"It's another attack." The headmaster whispered back. "Minerva found him on the stairs."

"There was a basket of fruits next to him." Professor McGonagall said. "I think he was coming to visit the Malfoy and LeStrange."

Tobias and Draco felt their stomachs clench. Tobias slowly sat up, noticing that Draco was already sitting up as well, trying to see who was laying in the hospital bed as well. Through the ray of light coming from a nearby window, they could see that the figure was Colin Creevy. He looked frozen, his camera in his hand.

"Is he—" Madam Pomfrey began.

"Yes." Professor McGonagall whispered. "Petrified."

Dumbledore slowly took the camera out of Colin's hands.

"I shudder to think… If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate—who knows what might have—" McGonagall then noticed Dumbledore with the camera. "You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?"

"Only one way to find out." Snape said lowly.

Tobias and Draco watched eagerly as Dumbledore opened the back of Colin's camera. They were disappointed when the camera coughed out a jet of stream. Draco frowned as the smell of burnt plastic filled his nose.

"It's melted." Madam Pomfrey said slowly. "All melted…"

Professor McGonagall covered Creevy's body with a white sheet. "What does this _mean_ , Albus?"

"It means," Dumbledore said slowly, setting Colin's camera down on the end table beside his bed. "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed opened again."

" _Again_?" Draco whispered, confused. Tobias was confused as well—this wasn't the first time the chamber was opened?

The professors grew silent, and from the look of dread and fear on their faces, the two Slytherins knew that this wasn't good.

"Well we know one thing." Draco whispered again, and Tobias was surprised that the blonde Slytherin was talking to him. "It wasn't us for sure."

 **Author's Note: The suspense gets deeper, and I successfully fought through my writer's block. So follow, fav, and review! The show is just beginning folks!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	27. COS11: The Parselmouth

If I could find a way

To see this straight

I'd run away

To some fortune that I

I should have found by now

~ Cough Syrup x Young the Giant

Chapter 27: The Parselmouth

 _It happened again._

 _Ginny, I told you it's just sleepwalking._

 _But why is it every time I sleepwalk, somebody ends up petrified?_

 _I admit, it's weird, but I'm telling you, you have nothing to worry about._

 _Should I tell someone? Maybe someone can help me._

 _No…if you tell someone, they'll think you're the one doing the petrifying. They'll expel you from Hogwarts—and I won't let that happen to you._

 _You promise?_

 _Promise. That's what friends are for, right?_

* * *

"You could have told me it was happening again."

Lucius Malfoy set down his cup of tea. It wasn't like Snape to reach out to him personally—this reason peaking his interest in their meeting. They met in Hogsmeade—the Malfoys owned a private room in the Hog's Head, in case of emergencies—or in Snape's case, for secret meetings. As usual, the black- haired man showed no emotion, but from the tone of his voice, Lucius could tell he was furious.

"What was I supposed to say?" Lucius shot back. "The Dark Lord didn't want you to know, and who am I to go against him?"

Snape clenched his fist. "You could've said _anything._ Now the whole school—and staff—thinks it's the heirs launching the attacks!"

"What do you mean?" Lucius' eyes went wider.

Snape scoffed. " _Enemies of the Heir Beware_? What did you _think_ was going to happen?"

The blonde man seemed out of it—scared even. "She wrote that?"

" _She_? Malfoy, what is going on?"

Lucius Malfoy looked around the room nervously, as if there was someone secretly hidden in the walls—waiting patiently for the blonde man to say something that was meant to be forbidden. To be sure, he cast a silencing charm. He leaned over the table, his hands pressed together—Snape could see the vein in his neck quivering.

"It's happening again." He whispered, his voice now hoarse and shaking. "And the diary—"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "—diary?"

"—it's some sort of enchanted diary. Lord Voldemort told me to deliver it to…. _someone_ …. and that someone has opened the chamber."

"But how?"

"It's the diary—it has a piece of him in there, all the secrets to the chamber, all his plans. But when I opened it, Severus—" His voice was now cracking. "It was nothing written in there."

Snape felt himself tense up. "Who did you give it to, Lucius?"

"I can't tell you—"

"— _Lucius—_ "

"Goddammit, Severus!" Malfoy slammed his fist against the table. "I want to tell you, I really do—but I can't. It's too late—you can't stop it."

Snape could tell the Lucius was afraid, and because he knew this, he wouldn't pressure the man any further. He knew the Dark Lord would have his head if he found out that Malfoy talked—there were enough fatherless pureblood sons leftover from the first wizarding war.

"Fine." Snape sighed. "Then tell me this. Why are you telling me?"

"Because I'm afraid for _Draco_." Lucius said through gritted teeth. "That is my son. _My only son._ "

"Your son isn't the one in danger." Snape pointed out.

Lucius scoffed. "But who do you think they're going to point the fingers at? Terrell and Darian weren't Death Eaters and Roldolphus is dead—whether his is Tobias real father or not. I'm still in the Dark Lord's ranks. Meaning they will assume it's me—and they will convict Draco."

Snape closed his eyes, knowing he would regret the next words coming out of his mouth. "Then, flip the blame."

"Meaning?"

"We both know that the Dark Lord was the one who opened the chamber fifty years ago—but the wizarding world blamed Hagrid."

Lucius looked flustered. "What does this have to do—"

" _Listen._ " Snape interrupted him, his cold sneer silencing the blonde man. "Despite Hagrid's expulsion, Dumbledore allowed him to return to Hogwarts as game- keeper. Once the public knows that the attacks are happening again, they will assume it is Hagrid once more."

"But Dumbledore will testify for him—maybe even expose that it was Lord Voldemort who opened it the first time."

"Which is why you need to influence the Ministry and the Wizarding Education Board that it is Hagrid—and that Dumbledore's judgement to let him return to Hogwarts was a _mistake_."

Malfoy shook his head. "They won't believe me."

"Then you _make_ them believe. Fudge is an imbecile, we both know that. If you get Fudge to believe you, the rest of the Ministry will fall right behind him."

* * *

Pansy was walking down the corridor, her eyes searching for the brown- haired Slytherin known as Theodore Nott. It was hard to locate the boy—not because of the many students in the hall, but the fact that Theodore could be anywhere. She once heard a rumor that he found a secret room that only opens when you close your eyes. Pansy didn't believe it, but Daphne went all dreamy eyed when she heard.

The Slytherin girl was relieved when she found the boy sitting in the courtyard, talking to the Bloody Baron. She felt bad for him—he and Tobias hadn't been hanging out lately since everyone found out about that Creevy kid. It was already bad enough that Zabini had succeeded in splitting the group up, but know everyone just seemed to be hanging alone. She caught that Longbottom kid sitting in the library by himself—no Weasley, no Granger. It was sad—Tobias was even acting different. He always seemed to be looking for something.

"Theodore, I need to talk to you." She looked up to the Bloody Baron. She tried to hold in her shiver as the eyeless ghost stared down at her.

"It's alright, Baron, she's a friend." Theodore said casually. The ghost then nodded and floated away. Theodore adjusted his scarf.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't me."

Pansy seemed confused. "What?"

Theodore shook his head. "Nothing. How may I be of assistance? And please don't say you need someone petrified."

" _What?_ No!" The Slytherin girl sat down on the bench beside him, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. "Why are you sitting outside?"

"I'm hoping I'll get sick and be admitted to the hospital wing so everyone will stop thinking it's me that's causing these attacks."

"So it isn't you?"

Theodore rubbed his gloved hands together, blowing on them to keep warm. "Is that what's going around?"

"No." Pansy shook her head. "Everyone thinks it's Tobias or Malfoy, but Daphne keeps trying to convince everyone it's you."

"That girl must be stopped."

"But that isn't why I'm here." Pansy then turned to face Theodore. "It's Zabini."

The Slytherin boy seemed confused. "And what does that have to do with me?"

"He's the reason Malfoy and Weasley are bumping heads. I saw Weasley talking to Zabini the other day, and right after that, Zabini's sitting at the lunch table with Malfoy. It was his plan to split you all up."

"That seems overly complicated for Zabini's small little brain." Theodore said amusingly. "But why are you telling me and not Tobias?"

Pansy blushed then. "Because…Zabini knows something… about me… and he said he would spread it if I told Tobias."

Theodore sighed. "He's going to tell that you have a crush on Tobias. Manipulative little git."

"How did you—"

"Daphne may be a pain in the arse, but the girl has a knack for gossip. And if we end up getting married, that will be the reason I didn't kill myself right after the ceremony."

Pansy groaned. "The point is, I had to tell someone—but you can't tell Tobias."

" _Clearly_."

"So I need you to deal with Zabini."

"Well, today is your lucky day, Parkinson." Said Theodore, holding up his fists. "Because it's been exactly one year since I punched Zabini in the face and my fists haven't been the same since. They need to be refreshed."

Pansy nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem."

The girl then bit her lip. "Is Tobias alright, then? I haven't seen him lately."

Theodore shrugged. "I guess he's okay. Ever since that Creevy kid got petrified, he's been distant. Can you keep a secret? Ya know, since we're telling each other things we shouldn't be."

"You forgot who you're talking to, Nott." Pansy smirked.

"Right, right. Hair full of secrets. Completely forgot." Theodore chuckled. "But uhh—he's been hearing voices."

" _Voices?_ "

"Shhhhh. Not out loud—do you want the whole bloody school to know?"

"No, of course not." The girl shook her head. "But it's just—have you been hearing them, too?"

"No, only Tobias can hear them."

Pansy pulled her cloak tighter. "Has he told anyone?"

"Anyone other than me?" Theodore scoffed. "No, his grandfather told him not to tell. And I agree. What if he tells someone and they think he's the one who opened the chamber?"

"But it wasn't him. Creevy was admitted to hospital wing the same day Tobias broke his arm."

"I know, but who's really going to believe that once they find out he's hearing voices?"

Pansy didn't respond, she knew the answer to Theodore's question. Of course they weren't going to believe him if they found out—he was the heir of the Dark Lord. The only one of the heirs who was hearing a voice in the walls of Hogwarts. She then turned to look at Theodore, who surprisingly, looked more serious than usual.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly.

Theodore sighed, watching as the cool air left his mouth. "I miss my mom. I miss my friends—this term wasn't supposed to be like this. Us separated like this—everyone hiding because if you move the wrong way, you might get convicted of murder. It sucks."

"Well you know," Pansy sighed. She thought about Tobias, and how she had this crush that she could never speak about. She thought about how Zabini was blackmailing her and how there was a monster lurking through the corridors. To be honest, she never felt so out of place as she had this term. All Daphne and Astoria did was talking about boys, and Tracey wouldn't stop talking about Quidditch. She felt alone, and the one person she wanted to talk to—she couldn't.

"Sometimes life just sucks."

Theodore chuckled. "You got that right."

* * *

Hermione, Ron, and Neville met immediately in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom that morning. They had decided to brew the potion there because Hermione claimed that nobody came in there anymore because of the sorrowful ghost. The news about Colin Creevy got out that morning—and it was all that was being talked about.

"So Dobby came back?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "And he told me a few things. Answers actually."

Ron was sitting on one of the bathroom sinks. "Answers about what?"

"He was the one who sealed the barrier to platform nine and three- quarters. He was also the one who tampered with the bludger at Saturday's match."

Ron crossed his arms. "Well, that's old news. I thought he would've told you something about the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione bit her lip. "He did."

Neville's eyes went wider. "What did he say?"

"He said—He said that the chamber had been opened before. But he wouldn't tell me who opened it."

"He wouldn't tell you who because it's obvious who it was." Ron said irritably. "It was his _master_ —Lucius Malfoy. Lucius must've opened it when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it."

"But what about the monster?" Neville cut in. "Did he say anything about that? Or how nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

Hermione shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me anything after he revealed that the chamber had been opened before."

"Maybe is can make itself invisible." Ron suggested.

"Or disguise itself." Said Hermione as she pushed some leeches down into her cauldron. "It could pretend to be a suit of armor or something—I've read about Chameleon Ghouls—"

Ron laughed. "You read too much Hermione."

"Just trying to find out as much information as I can about this." Hermione then poured a bag of dead lacewings on top of the leeches. "How's Ginny?"

"The usual." Ron shrugged. "But she has been acting weird. I thought she was just sad about Filch's cat, but ever since everyone found about Colin, she just looks downright awful."

"She does take charms with Colin, maybe they were friends. You should try cheering her up."

The red- haired Gryffindor groaned. "I've _tried_. But nothing works—plus Fred and George have been making it worse, jumping out at her from behind statues covered in fur or boils. Percy made them stop a few days ago, though."

Ron then looked at Neville who was sitting on the floor surrounded by a large, evil- smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail. Ron had noticed that a lot of people were buying weird stuff like this—more people now that Colin had been attacked.

"Neville, what is that stuff?"

Neville looked up. "It's supposed to protect me, from the monster."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. "Neville you can't be attacked, you're a pureblood."

"That's what everyone's been saying." Neville responded, a fearful look on his face. "But they went for Filch first and everyone knows I'm almost a Squib. I didn't want to take any chances."

* * *

"You ready?" Tobias whispered to Theodore. They were sitting in in Potions, waiting for the perfect moment to distract Snape so they could get the remaining ingredients for the Polyjuice potion. Tobias couldn't help but think that all of this would be much easier if he could use his invisibility cloak. But Theodore insisted that they use a diversion—so here they were.

Theo smirked. "I was born ready."

Today's assignment had been the Swelling Solution. Tobias and Theodore were familiar with making the potion, seeing as they perfected the formula all summer in their training sessions with Professor Snape personally. Theodore watched the professor as he walked from table to table, looking into everyone's cauldron. He stopped at Theodore and Tobias's table and gave them a satisfied nod before walking over to the Gryffindor side of the room. When Snape began to pester Neville about his potion, Theodore took this as the perfect opportunity.

He slid quietly out of his seat, crawling swiftly to Crabbe and Goyle's table. He shuffled in his pocket for the Filibuster Fireworks that Ron gave him for his birthday. He had been looking for a reason to use them, and this was perfect. He gave Tobias the signal, and the dark- haired boy threw a wad of paper at Goyle. Once Goyle's attention was diverted, Theodore slipped the fireworks in his cauldron—crawling away quickly before the reaction took hold.

Goyle's potion exploded immediately and the whole class was covered in the potion. Before anyone could react, Crabbe's potion exploded as well. Students shrieked in horror as parts of their body began to grown to enormous sizes. Zabini's ears were the size of an elephant's and Draco's nose had grown to look like a balloon. At that moment, Tobias took this opportunity to slip out of sight and head towards Snape's cabinet.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed come here for a Deflating Draught—when I find out who did this—"

Tobias shimmied over to the cabinet, not even noticing it was already opened. He walked closer to find Hermione digging through the cabinet, shoving ingredients down her robes.

"Hermione?" He whispered.

The bushy- haired witch turned around quickly, covering her mouth to prevent her from shrieking. Her eyes went wide as she came into contact with Tobias. The boy looked down to notice she was holding shredded boomslang skin and something clicked in his head.

"Are you making polyjuice potion?"

Hermione didn't answer, but from the way her cheeks went red—he knew the answer. Before he could say anything else, Hermione walked away quickly from the cabinet, her robes bulging with the materials she just stole. Tobias could hear the commotion dying down behind him, which meant he didn't have much time to grab what he needed. He put the materials down in his robes and walked off, nodding to Theodore that the deed was done.

But as he sat back down at his desk, a question began swirling in his head.

Why was Hermione making Polyjuice Potion?

* * *

Draco walked into Zabini's dorm, still touching his nose from today's potion lesson. It has returned to its normal size, but he was afraid that maybe he had been hallucinating the antidote. His nose still felt extremely heavy.

"Crabbe and Goyle picked a fine day to have their potions explode." He growled.

Blaise was sitting on his bed, staring down at the cauldron sitting on the floor. He had a pensive look on his face that Draco had seen only a few times. The boy was deep thought about something—as if he had just figured something out.

"What is it?"

Zabini didn't look up. "It was a distraction."

"A what?" Draco seemed confused.

"When everyone was in line waiting to receive the Deflating Drought, I noticed that two people weren't in line." Blaise then looked up at Draco. "LeStrange and Granger."

The blonde Slytherin shrugged. "Maybe they didn't get splashed."

"That's what I thought at first." Blaise responded. "Until I noticed Granger walking away from the back of the room, with her robes bulging as if she was hiding something in them."

"Maybe she was—"

"Snape's cupboard is in the back of the classroom, meaning that Granger and LeStrange took something out of there. And based on the confusion—it had to be something that no student could ask for."

Draco made a step back once he realized where Blaise was headed. "You think they're making Polyjuice Potion?"

Zabini jumped down from his bed. "I don't think—I know they're making Polyjuice Potion. And I'm going to find out why."

* * *

A week later, the dueling club was the new news of the school. At eight o' clock, all the second year students who signed the sign- up list met up in the Great Hall. Everyone was amazed by the golden stage that sat in the middle of the room. The dinner tables had vanished and the ceiling was a velvety black color.

"I wonder who's going to be teaching." Theodore said. "They said Flitwick was a dueling champion was young—I would love to take him on."

Tobias laughed. "I don't care who it is as long as it isn't Lockhart."

"Too late for that." Theodore frowned, pointing towards the stage. "Look."

Tobias groaned as he watched Lockhart walk onto the golden stage. He was wearing deep purple robes and behind him was none other than Professor Snape, who was wearing his usual black robes. His eyes were scanning the room—no doubt searching for the culprit who made Crabbe and Goyle's potions explode last week.

"Gather round, gather round!" Lockhart called out. "Can everybody see me? You sir, yes in the back, can you hear me? Excellent!"

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me the honor to start this little dueling club, my goal is to train you all so that you may defend yourself—which I have done on countless occasions—for more details see my published works."

"I'd rather die." Theodore grumbled.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape." Lockhart began clapping happily, and was soon joined by a few other students, mostly Slytherins. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, don't fret—you'll still have your potion's master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"He's not the one I'm afraid for." Tobias joked, and Theodore laughed.

Snape and Lockhart then turned towards each other and bowed. When they came up, the held their wands in front of the like swords.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position." Lockhart said, his eyes still on Snape. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"Spoils sport." Theodore pouted.

"One—two—"

"RIP HIS HEAD OFF!"

" _Theo._ "

"—three—"

Both of the professors swung their wands of their heads, aiming it at their opponent. Snape beat Lockhart to the punch with a disarming charm. But instead of Lockhart's wand flying out of his hand, the Dart Arts professor flew backwards off the stage, smashing into the wall. There was laughter from the Slytherin side of the room.

"Well, there you have it!" He said, stumbling back onto the stage. "That was a disarming charm—a very strong one at that. As you see, I've lost my wand—ah thank you, Miss Granger—yes an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious—" He laughed. "—what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Snape looked irritated, and Lockhart seem to have noticed. He cleared his throat and stepped off the stage. "Enough Demonstrating! We're now going to split you up into pairs. So uhh—Longbottom with Finch- Fletchley. Granger with Bulstrode. Weasley with Finnegan. LeStrange with Malfoy and Nott with Zabini. Professor Snape, if you don't mind, could you help pair the rest of the children?"

Blaise walked casually over towards Theodore, his hands in his robes pocket. Theodore smirked as he saw Zabini tense up before him.

"Well, well, well." Theodore said. "If it isn't the small version of Two- Face, even though both sides of your face are unattractive instead of one."

Zabini chuckled. "Still using jokes to disguise your pain? It's getting old, Theodore."

"Face your partners!" Lockhart screamed out. "And bow!"

Tobias and Draco bowed to each other, their wands at ready.

"Just like old times, huh?" Tobias smiled weakly.

Draco was silent, his eyes locked on Tobias's.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent— _only_ to disarm them—we don't want any accidents—one…two…three—"

" _STUPIFY_!" Draco screamed out, causing Tobias to fly backwards. Before Draco could raise his wand again, Tobias focused his energy on his next spell.

" _Rictusempra!"_

A silver jet of light hit Malfoy and the stomach and he fell over. Tobias stood back up to watch the boy cough and wheeze on the ground.

"Is this really what you want?" Tobias asked lowly.

Draco narrowed his eyes. " _Tarantallegra!"_

Tobias's legs began to jerk out of control. Draco stood up, aiming his wand for another blow. Tobias tried to aim his wand, but his legs were causing his wand to shake.

" _Finite Incantartem!"_ Professor Snape shouted, and Tobias's legs stopped shaking.

Professor Lockhart ran over, his hair everywhere. " _I said disarm only!_ Dear, dear." Lockhart looked around the room at the aftermath of the duels. Neville and Justin were on the floor trying to catch their breath. Ron was holding up a sweaty Seamus, apologizing for his wand. Millicent had Hermione in a headlock, while the bushy haired witch whimpered in pain.

"I think I better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells." Lockhart said, roaming through the pairs. "Ah yes, Weasley and Finnegan. You both will volunteer."

"No." Professor Snape said shortly. "Weasley's wand causes significant damage with the simplest of spells. He'll be sending Mister Finnegan home in a match box." Ron's face went red. "How about a more experienced pair? LeStrange and Malfoy, perhaps? Two students who have been dueling against each other since they were nine- years- old."

Lockhart smiled. "Excellent Idea! LeStrange and Malfoy come to the stage."

Tobias and Draco walked up on stage. Everyone watched as the two heirs walked up, their wands gripped tightly in their hands. They faced each other once more.

"Draco, you don't have to do this."

Draco smirked. "Scared, LeStrange?"

"You wish."

"On the count of three! Disarm and disarm only!" Lockhart called out. "One—two—"

"Last chance." Tobias mouthed.

"THREE!"

" _Serpensortia!_ " Draco screamed, and a long black snake shot out the end of it. While all the other students moved away from the stage, Tobias stood still. He looked up at Draco and smirked—was this really the best he could think of? There were screams and whispers from the crowd, everyone's eyes glued on the black snake slithering towards Tobias.

"Don't move, LeStrange," Snape said slowly. "I'll get rid of the snake."

Lockhart pushed past him. "Allow me!" He flicked his wand, but instead of making the snake disappear—the serpent shot into the air and fell straight back down. As the snake landed, it hissed furiously and began to slither towards the crowd. Everyone stepped back further, instead of Justin Finch- Fletchley, who was now paralyzed with fear.

Tobias snapped his head back towards Draco. "Make it go away!"

Draco shook his head, his face filled with horror. "I—I—I don't know how."

The snake was slithering closer, and Tobias knew what he had to do. He hopped off of the stage and stood in front of Justin.

 _"Leave him alone._ " He said lowly. The snake slumped to the floor, and Tobias was sure that the snake would not be attacking anyone now. He turned towards Justin, expecting the boy to thank him for saving him from the snake. But surprisingly—Justin was angry.

"This is not good." Theodore whispered to Pansy.

"What do you think you're playing at?!" Justin shouted.

Tobias frowned. "I just _saved_ your life! I told him to leave you alone."

Pansy stepped forward, grabbing Tobias's arm, but the boy snatched it out of her grip. How dare Justin be angry at him—he was the reason the snake was lying helpless on the ground now.

"Oh, that's what you told him?" Justin spat back. "All I heard was you speaking Parseltongue!"

"How else was I supposed to tell the snake to leave you alone?!"

"You know who else is a parselmouth?" Justin shouted loudly so everyone can hear him. "SALAZAR SLYTHERIN!"

There were a few gasps and the room went silent.

"I bet you're like his great- great- grandson or something."

"ENOUGH!" Snape shouted. The professor stepped forward and flicked his wand, causing the snake to disappear in a cloud of black smoke. "This lesson is over. Everyone return to your common rooms. LeStrange come with me."

"Come on, Tobias." Pansy whispered. Tobias glared at Justin once more before turning around and following Snape out of the Great Hall. He could feel the stares and hear the whispers from the other students. Pansy and Theodore was at his side, Theodore glaring at everyone who made a face or said something rude about Tobias. Pansy did the same.

* * *

The next day, Hermione was in the library—looking for more books on the Chamber or Secrets and now any books that pertained to the Sacred 28 families and the pedigree of Salazar Slytherin. The incident from last night got around the school quickly—and now everyone accused Tobias of being the opener of the chamber.

She didn't believe it. It wasn't like Tobias to do something like that—they were friends—he wouldn't attack any of the muggleborns. But she did have her doubts every now and then. Tobias was making polyjuice potion as well—she found that out when they both coincidently picked the same day to steal the materials from Snape's cupboard. Tobias was one of Snape's favorite students—why would he need to steal from him?

As she walked towards her favorite table, she passed a group of Hufflepuffs sitting at a table together. She wasn't bothered by their conversation until she heard Tobias's name come up. She discreetly sat down two tables away from her usual spot, opening a book to disguise her eavesdropping.

"So anyway," one of the Hufflepuffs said. "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. You saw the way LeStrange was staring at him—he's next. Justin's been waiting for something like this since he let it slip to everyone that he was muggle- born. No doubt it got back to LeStrange."

"So you definitely think it's LeStrange, Ernie?" A girl with pigtails said sheepishly.

The boy named Ernie nodded. "Hannah, it's obvious. LeStrange is a parselmouth and we all know that's the mark of a dark wizard. They called Slytherin himself Serpent- tongue."

There were some whispering and nodding.

"Remember what was written on the wall? _Enemies of the Heir Beware._ Nott had some run in with Filch, and we all know that Nott is LeStrange's best friend. Next thing we know, Filch's cat is attacked. Then that first year, Creevy. He's been annoying LeStrange since the beginning of the term. Next thing we know—Creevy's been attacked. Now that Justin has exposed him to everyone, LeStrange will probably try to hush him up."

Hermione held her breath as she listened. Ernie was making some good points—but it all didn't make sense. She heard Tobias speaking parseltongue, but whatever he said—he made the snake stop. That doesn't sound like something the heir of Slytherin would do if he wanted to harm the muggleborns. She closed her book and left the library. She didn't want to hear this anymore—Draco, Theodore, and Tobias were her friends. And along with the fact that her life was in danger, she had to worry about whether they were the ones causing it.

She was barely paying attention to where she was going when she bumped into something large and furry. She looked up to notice she was standing in front of Hagrid, who was holding a dead rooster in his hand.

"Well, hullo der, Hermione!" He said cheerfully. "Why aren't yeh in class?"

"It was canceled." Hermione said. "So I went to the library instead. Why are you in here?"

Hagrid held up the dead rooster. "It's the second one killed this term. It's either foxes or a Blood- Suckin' Bugbear an' I need the headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop."

He stared at the bushy haired witch closely.

"You alrigh', Hermione? You look like something's bothering you."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine. Just—too much reading. I'll see you later Hagrid." She walked off from the game- keeper, heading down the corridor to who knows where. She needed to clear her head, and right now the library wasn't the place for it.

She went up the stairs and turned down another corridor. She knew she shouldn't be walking around the corridors alone, but she couldn't go back to Gryffindor Tower. All Ron would do was continue going on and on about how it's Malfoy who's behind the attacks—and the rest of the house would be talking about Tobias and the dueling club incident. She still had her sights on Zabini, who hasn't had any rumors or news surrounding him.

She slowed down when she saw someone—a Slytherin student—standing in front of a loose windowpane. From the dark- hair blowing in the wind, she could tell it was Tobias. He was staring down at something—or was it someone? There was also something floating beside him.

As Hermione walked closer, she felt her stomach lurch. On the ground was Justin Finch- Fletchley. His body was rigid and no doubt cold from the breeze blowing through the window. He had a look of shock on his face. Next to him was Nearly Headless Nick, who was no longer white and transparent, but black and smoky. Hermione felt even sicker as she noticed that Nick's head was hanging half- off. His face was just as surprised as Justin's. She looked at Tobias and hoped that he wasn't the cause of this.

"Tobias." She said softly, and the boy snapped his head towards her. Hermione was frozen as she saw that Tobias eyes were red—had he'd been crying? He took a step forward.

"Hermione." He croaked. "It wasn't me—"

She took a step back, but Tobias continued to walk forward. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but he was the only one there. And it was _Justin_ —she didn't know what to think. She wanted to run, but part of her told her to stay.

"ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAAK!" Screamed Peeves, and all the doors opened, and the corridors were filled with students just like it was on Halloween. Hermione tried to say something to Tobias, but it was too late as he was pinned against the wall by a Hufflepuff seventh year.

There was a loud bang and everyone went quiet. Professor McGonagall tucked her wand away, ordering everyone to return to their classes. But no one moved.

" _Caught in the act!_ " Ernie yelled, pointing a finger at Tobias, who was now shaking with what looked like fear.

"IT WASN'T ME!" Tobias shouted, but of course, nobody would believe him now.

"That will do!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Everyone return to your classes _now!_ "

And with that everyone left the scene. All but Hermione. She watched as Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra carried Justin to the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall gave Ernie a large fan to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. When Ernie left, Hermione was left alone with McGonagall and Tobias.

"You two," She said. "Come with me."

"Professor," Tobias said immediately, regaining his voice. "I swear I didn't—this wasn't—I didn't do _this_!"

"This is out of my hands, LeStrange."

Hermione walked behind them, her heart racing. They walked in silence until they reached the large gargoyle statue that she knew to be the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Lemon Drop!" Professor McGonagall said, and the Gargoyle came alive and hopped out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase.

The two students followed the professor up the stairs. Hermione could still hear Peeves singing in the background.

" _Oh LeStrange, LeStrange, oh, what have you done. You're killing of students, you think it's good fun. The heir of Slytherin has returned again. To rid Hogwarts of its muggleborn friends ."_

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	28. COS12: Polyjuice Shenanigans

You and me

We used to be together

Everyday together always

I really feel

That I'm losing my best friend

Don't Speak x No Doubt

Chapter 28: Polyjuice Shenanigans

He had heard it again. The voice. He was walking down one of the corridors when he heard it. It was the same cold and shrilling voice as Halloween. He could hear the words echoing in his head. _Kill…time to kill…must have it…must taste it…THE BLOOD!_ He tried to ignore it, but something in his gut told him to go towards it. To stop whatever it was from getting to its target. He wouldn't let what happened to Colin happen to someone else.

So he ran towards it—not even thinking about the consequences or even the fact that he might be the only one there. He didn't think about that people were already accusing him of being the heir of Slytherin. He should've walked away, he should've ignored it. But when he saw Justin frozen on the ground and Nearly Headless Nick floating and non- transparent in the air, he knew it was too late. He felt sick—he wanted to run, but he couldn't move. His eyes burned from the wind blowing into them. He couldn't just _leave_ them—but he knew he couldn't stay.

But then Hermione showed up, and he knew she was just as horrified as he was. He tried to explain to her, he tried to tell her that this wasn't his doing. He needed her to believe him, but she only backed away—as if she was the next victim. But even then it was too late—Peeves alerted everyone and the next thing he remembered was being pinned to the wall by a seventh year Hufflepuff. He wanted to fight, but what was the point? He shouted that it wasn't him—but the looks on everyone's face, the conviction in their stares—nobody would believe him now. And the fact that it was _Justin_ —this was it.

Tobias LeStrange, you have been convicted.

* * *

"You're joking."

Pansy was sitting on top of a desk of some empty classroom Crabbe and Goyle dragged her in. She didn't even fight back seeing as this was none other than one of Zabini's blackmail plans. Honestly, they didn't even drag her in, they just aggressively escorted her inside. Being the Heir of the Dark Lord's betrothed had its perks. And as expected, Blaise Zabini was sitting on top of the teacher's desk, looking as studious as ever. He would actually be kind of cute if he wasn't such an intolerable git.

He wore that insufferable smile that made even Lockhart's smile seem tolerable. His robes were pressed and lint free—his pants hemmed at the right length. His tie neatly tied under his Slytherin sweater. He looked like the perfect prep school boy—Slytherin Prince. But deep down under he was a sick, evil, manipulative little snake. And Pansy knew how to play this game. She knew how to play it very well.

"I'm not." Blaise smiled back. "I can't get close enough to LeStrange and Nott to get it, so I need you to."

Pansy pursed her lips. "Do you realize how _weird_ this is? You want me to get a lock of their _hair_?"

"I don't think it's weird at all—given my reasons."

"And what _are_ your reasons?"

Blaise wiped down his trousers. "That's none of your business."

The Slytherin girl laughed, crossing her legs. " _Actually_ , it is my business. See I'm a Parkinson, meaning that I don't _do_ the 'hush and do as you're told' routine." Blaise's smile fell, and Pansy smirked. "Meaning that if you want these hairs, I need to know what they are for."

Blaise pondered her words. "I'm making Polyjuice potion."

"Why are you doing that?" The girl frowned, she wasn't expecting this.

"Don't get thick on me now, Pans." Blaise chuckled. "There is a _monster_ on the loose—someone has opened the _Chamber of Secrets_. And I want to find out who."

"So it isn't you?"

"Oh, Merlin, no. Zabinis don't do the dirty work—you know that."

Pansy furrowed her brow. "But you think it's either Tobias or Theodore?"

"Well it isn't me and I dropped my suspicions on Malfoy a few days ago." He crossed his arms. "Do we have a deal or what?"

"And what if it is one of them? What are you going to do then?"

Blaise smirked. "Haven't decided yet. But you should cross your fingers and hope it's not before I decide."

The door to the classroom then burst opened, and Crabbe and Goyle came rushing in. From the excited smiles on their faces, something happened—something in Blaise's favor.

"Zabini." Goyle panted. "LeStrange, he's been caught—with that mudblood Finch- Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. They're been petrified!"

Blaise hopped down from the desk. "Well that's convenient." He looked towards Pansy. "Sorry to ruin our little talk, Pans, but I have other places I need to be."

He walked towards the door, Crabbe and Goyle behind him. He reached for the doorknob but stopped, turning around to face the girl once more.

"They're going to convict him, but if you give me what I want, you have the chance to prove him innocent—as unlikely as that sounds. I'll give you time to think about it."

And with that he left the classroom, using the rest of his slimy gentleman charm to close the door behind him—preventing anyone from knowing that Pansy was still in the room. She took this time to think over her and Blaise's conversation. He was making Polyjuice Potion and Tobias was just found beside a petrified Hufflepuff and ghost. She groaned once she realized that Zabini was right—they would convict him. He could get expelled, or worse. But if she got the hairs for Blaise, and if there was even the chance that it wasn't Tobias conducting the attacks, she could go to Dumbledore herself and clear his name.

She slid off the desk, finally coming to a decision. She honestly hated the fact that she would doing something for Zabini, but it seemed that the hope of this year being a great one lied in the hands of the devil himself.

* * *

Hermione sat in Dumbledore's office, her eyes locked on Tobias. Professor McGonagall had left them alone after escorting them up the spiral staircase. Hermione immediately sat down, but grew nervous when Tobias didn't do the same. She could tell he was edgy—maybe even afraid. He looked worse than he did last year when he found out he killed Quirrell. But the difference from last year and today was that Tobias admitted to what he did—this time he didn't, or maybe he couldn't. Either way, he hadn't said a word since Professor McGonagall left. And that was fifteen minutes ago.

She watched him pick up the sorting hat from one of Dumbledore's shelves.

"Tobias," She said softly. "I don't think you should touch that."

"I haven't told anyone this." He said back, and Hermione was surprised that his voice was clear. She was even more surprised that she had gotten him to talk. "But something happened, the night of my sorting."

She held her breath. "What happened?"

Tobias flipped the hat in his hand. "I almost ended up in Gryffindor. The hat said that I had many traits of both Slytherin and Gryffindor, and that my destiny screamed one of them and my heritage screamed the other."

"What do you think that means?"

"I don't know." The boy whispered. "But right now, I wish I would have chosen Gryffindor, because maybe I wouldn't be here. Or I wish I had ignored these voices in my head and turned the other cheek like a real Slytherin would."

"Voices?" Hermione asked, her heart pounding. "What voices?"

Tobias sighed, setting the hat back down on the shelf. "Nothing. It doesn't matter now, anyway. I'm about to be expelled."

Hermione bit her lip, deciding if she should trust her instincts or not. "I believe you."

The dark- haired Slytherin looked at her, his green eyes meeting her brown ones, and Hermione could see the small glimpse of hopefulness in them. But she could also see the hopelessness in them, too. She took a deep breath, hoping that she was making the right decision.

"You had just found them, hadn't you? When I arrived?"

Tobias nodded.

"And it was…these voices….that led you there?"

He sniffled, but nodded again.

"Did you hear them on Halloween? When we found Filch's cat?"

Tobias took a deep breath. "Yeah."

Hermione got up from her seat and made her way towards the Slytherin. She wasn't sure about how she felt, or what she should think, but she knew deep down that Tobias wasn't the one conducting these attacks. Looking at him now, she understood what the sorting hat meant. No Slytherin would run towards the voices he was hearing, especially if he knew the voices would lead him to a petrified student. But a Gryffindor would—despite Tobias's theory that he wouldn't be in this situation if he had been sorted into a different house.

"You need to tell Dumbledore." She said. "If you tell him what you told me, they'll let you go—you won't be expelled."

"No." Tobias shook his head. He was staring at an ill- looking bird sitting on the golden perch. It was obvious that the bird was dying—there were feathers falling off of it every second. Yet, Tobias stared at it as it was the only normal thing in the room.

"Tobias, this is serious—you're hearing something, _someone._ It could be the monster, if you just—"

"HERMIONE NO!" He screamed, causing her to jump back. "Do you _honestly_ think they're just going to let me go if I tell them that?"

Hermione shook her head. "You're afraid Tobias. And you don't need to be—"

"Yes, I do! I'm not a Gryffindor like you—I'm not in Dumbledore's good graces. Once I tell them that, everything is going to change!" He banged his fist on the cage, and in result, Dumbledore's bird burst into flames. Hermione and Tobias watched the bird shriek and burn into a smoking pile of ash on the bottom of the cage.

Before they could even make it seem like it was an accident, the door opened and Dumbledore came in.

"Professor," Tobias breathed out. "Your bird—I didn't mean to hit the cage—there wasn't anything I could do—he just caught fire—"

"About time." Dumbledore smiled, confusing both of the second years. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on. I'm surprised Miss Granger didn't fill you in on the details."

Hermione went pale. "We were busy talking….about other things."

"Fill me in on what?" Tobias ignored her statement.

Dumbledore smiled. "Fawkes is a phoenix, Mister LeStrange. And as you know, phoenixes burst into flames when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes."

The Headmaster then walked over to the cage, pushing some of the ash away. Tobias looked to see a tiny, newborn bird emerge from the ashes. It looked the same as the old one, but the Slytherin was relieved to know that he hadn't murdered Dumbledore's bird.

"It's a shame you all had to see him on a Burning Day," He said as he sat behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly _faithful_ pets."

Tobias could barely hear what Dumbledore was saying through the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Any moment now, the headmaster would pop the question—or there may not be any questions at all. Tobias would be expelled, and by nightfall he would be heading back to LeStrange manor, never to return to Hogwarts again.

"I assume you two are wondering why you're here."

The two second years said nothing. Dumbledore peered at them through his half- moon spectacles.

"First, I want to eliminate the belief that it is Mister LeStrange causing these attacks."

Tobias's mouth fell open. "You don't think it was me?"

Dumbledore nodded. "As I've told you before, Tobias, I don't think it was you. I never thought it was you. But once again, I have questions—or a question."

Hermione could hear her heart pounding once more. It was pounding so hard she was sure Tobias and Dumbledore could hear it. What was the headmaster about to ask?

"Is there anything you two would like to tell me? Anything you've heard, or seen in the past few days?"

Tobias froze in his seat and it felt like time was slowing down. There was so much he wanted to tell the Headmaster. The voices. The Polyjuice Potion. The fact he could speak parseltongue. The fact that he may or may not—though it was highly likely—be related to Salazar Slytherin. The belief that he may be in the wrong house…

Hermione was having the same battle. She had to decide whether she should tell Dumbledore what Tobias had told her moments before. She was also thinking about the Polyjuice Potion simmering in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She then thought about Dobby and all the things he had told her that night after the Quidditch game…

"No." They both said at the same time.

"There isn't anything, Professor." Tobias lied.

Hermione swallowed. "I haven't heard anything either."

* * *

"It's a girl." Said Snape as he took his seat at the Black kitchen table.

"That doesn't make any sense." Lupin responded. "Are you _sure_?"

Snape nodded. "That's what Malfoy said."

"How do we even know we can trust Malfoy?" Arthur scoffed.

"Because he was talking to _me_." Snape sneered. "I'm the only one he trusts—I am his son's godfather after all."

Lupin laughed. "How did you gain that title?"

"Tell me Lupin, when was the last time you've seen your godson?" Snape smirked. "Oh wait, you haven't. But I can tell you he is alive and well."

"Enough." Kingsley groaned.

"If it's a girl," said Mad- Eye. "Then we're on a bigger goose chase than we were before. There are hundreds of girls that attend Hogwarts."

"But surely they'll be in Slytherin." Molly said. "That narrows down the search."

"That's assuming they are in Slytherin." Said Kingsley. "We assumed that the Heir of Slytherin was one of the Sacred 28 heirs and now look. She could be _anyone._ "

Mad- Eye took a swing from his flask. "Well done, Voldemort."

"Then we do investigations." Molly demanded. "We can do them during the Christmas holiday."

Snape shook his head. "Most of the students are going home for the holidays, given current events—it would be rude of us to ruin their holiday with assumptions."

"Then we interview the ones who chose to stay over the holidays." Lupin suggested. "And do the rest when we get back."

"Well, that would only leave three candidates." Dumbledore finally spoke up, a piece of parchment in his hands. "Since there are only three girls staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas Holiday."

"Who?" Arthur asked.

"Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, and Ginny Weasley."

Lupin sighed. "Well it obviously wouldn't be Granger—she's muggleborn correct? And Ginny—well—that just sounds unlikely for a first year."

"Does it?" Snape sneered.

"At this point, does it matter?" Mad- Eye cut in. "Voldemort could be using Granger, hoping that we _don't_ suspect her cause she is muggleborn. The same thing with Ginny."

"And the Dark Lord wouldn't entrust something severe as this with a Parkinson." Snape added on. "Thuban didn't even get assigned big tasks such as this during the war. It would be highly unlikely that he would give such a task to his _daughter._ "

"Maybe an act of redemption?" Kingsley suggested. "Who else is staying over the holiday?"

Dumbledore looked down at the parchment. "Ron Weasley—along with the rest of the Weasley children- Neville Longbottom, Tobias LeStrange, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini."

Lupin frowned. "Should we be worried? I mean Granger is staying as well."

"No." Dumbledore said simply. "They're staying because they want to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is."

Molly raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"

Snape sighed. "Because they're making Polyjuice Potion—no doubt to disguise themselves as each other. What better time to do it than during Christmas?"

"But isn't that _dangerous_?"

"Hardly. Unless they mix the potion wrong, but seeing as LeStrange, Granger, and Zabini—three of my best students—sought out the ingredients, that shouldn't happen."

"So we just wait." Said Lupin. "Let them do what they do, and hope they tell you who the real Heir of Slytherin is."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is the plan."

* * *

The term ended and the Christmas Holidays began. Now that there weren't any more classes to attend, the six ex- friends found it much easier to avoid each other. But to be honest, they couldn't cross each other's paths even if they tried. They were too busy finishing up their polyjuice potions. Draco and Blaise wouldn't leave the Slytherin dorms unless absolutely necessary; Hermione, Ron, and Neville were spending a lot of time in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; and Tobias and Theodore were spending their afternoons in the broom cupboard they found earlier that term. Everything was set—except for one thing.

The hairs.

Christmas morning came and Tobias and Theodore were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had resulted to staying in Zabini's dorm for the holidays—seeing as the rest of Blaise's roommates went home. Tobias had finally gotten to sleep after hours of worrying and nightmares about Justin Finch- Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. But of course, with today being Christmas, he wouldn't be enjoying this sleep for long.

He had expected Theodore to wake up before the crack of dawn and alert him that today was indeed Christmas, but instead he was awakened by his black- haired betrothed.

"Don't tell me you're still sleep." She growled, and he could hear her footsteps walking towards his bed. He grimaced as he heard the snatching of curtains and a bright light seeping through his eyelids.

"No, not today." Tobias grumbled.

"Yes, today." Pansy said back. "Now wake up! It's Christmas!"

Tobias groaned and sat up, wiping his eyes at the same time. When he opened them, Pansy was standing in at the end of his four poster bed, dressed in her silk green pajamas with presents in her hands. Tobias was surprised that Pansy had gotten him something for Christmas, seeing as they barely talked all semester. But he couldn't be angry with her—Pansy was his friend.

"Happy Christmas, LeStrange."

Tobias smiled back. "Happy Christmas, Pansy."

"Whas going on?" Asked a sleepy Theodore. He wiped his eyes, opening them to find Pansy Parkinson standing in their dorm. He shrieked, covering up his torso with his blanket. "What is she doing up here?!"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Happy Christmas to you, too."

Tobias laughed. "Are those for us?"

The Slytherin girl nodded, handing one box to Tobias and the other to Theodore. She smirked as Theodore eagerly took his box. "That one is actually from Daphne."

Theodore threw the box, where it landed at the end of his bed. "I don't even want to know."

Tobias opened his box, not knowing what to expect, but given what Pansy gave him for his birthday—he knew his Christmas present wouldn't be so bad. And it wasn't—Pansy had gotten him some black leather riding gloves with his initials stitched on the back.

"ANOTHER BLOODY BRACELET!" They heard Theodore scream in the background.

Tobias ignored him. "These are great! Thanks! But—uhh—I didn't get you anything."

Pansy shrugged. "I've already got what I wanted." She then walked over and kissed him on the cheek, causing Tobias to blush a furious red, but luckily Pansy didn't see it. She might think he liked her or something, and that would make their friendship awkward.

Once Pansy left, Tobias realized that Theodore had been staring at him the whole time—a childish grin on his face.

"What?"

"You know what, lover boy." Theodore teased. "Tell me, does your face always go that red when someone kisses you on the cheek—or is it only when Pansy does it?"

"Piss off, Theo."

"Oh, don't be such a grouch. It's Christmas—meaning that there are more presents downstairs."

Theodore then jumped out of bed, grabbing Whiskers and his black robe.

"Theodore wait!"

The Slytherin boy groaned. "Noooo—I can't wait any longer. I've been waiting since last Christmas."

"Exactly." Tobias smiled. "Today's Christmas—the potion's ready."

"Gulp."

* * *

"If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

Ron groaned. "Why _tonight_? It's Christmas."

"Exactly." Hermione snapped her finger. "Meaning that no one would be expecting it."

Neville was trying on his second Weasley- sweater. "But how are we going to get Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson's hair?"

"I already have Pansy Parkinson's hair. We just need Crabbe and Goyle."

"How'd you get that?" Ron's mouth gaped open.

The bushy- haired witch rolled her eyes. "Simple. I pulled it off her robes when she stood in front of me during the dueling club incident."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure it's hers?"

"Positive."

"I dunno, Hermione." Ron said sheepishly. "That hair is from weeks ago, it might be old—or it might not even be hers. I think you should get a fresh piece."

"No. It's already going to be hard enough tricking Crabbe and Goyle to give us their hair—and they're already as dumb as a doorknob. Parkinson isn't like them—she's smarter than that."

"But you're _smarter_ than her." Ron went on. "She won't know the difference."

Hermione shook her head. "But she'll know something is up when _I,_ Hermione Granger, come up to her to have a chat—which is something I haven't even thought about doing since our first year."

"She has a point." Neville said as he ate a piece of fruitcake his grandmother gave him.

Ron took a deep breath. "Fine. So how are we going to trick Crabbe and Goyle?"

* * *

Draco was looking through his Christmas presents when there was a knock on the door. He turned to look at Blaise who had already motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to answer it. Draco watched as the door opened and a fully dressed Pansy Parkinson walked through.

"Happy Christmas, Pans." Blaise teased. "Come to deliver?"

Pansy said nothing as she walked over and handed Blaise a small black box. The tan Slytherin opened it and grinned widely. He closed the box and set it down beside him. "You must really care about him."

"Cut the crap, Zabini." She snapped. "When are you going to use it?"

Blaise chuckled. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"

"Up your arse."

"Charming. But as you must know, we'll be using it today."

Draco frowned. "Using what today?"

"Well, the Polyjuice Potion, my dear friend." Zabini then held up the box. "Now that we have LeStrange and Nott's hair—we can begin."

Draco snapped his head towards Pansy. How could she betray Tobias like that? Draco had at least expected Pansy to be there for him. But here she was, making deals with Blaise. He looked into her eyes, trying to find something—guilt, or maybe deceit. But there was nothing there—nothing he could feed off of. What was she playing at?

"How did you get them?" He asked.

"Took them this morning while they were sleep." She said simply, she turned back to Blaise. "If you hurt him—"

Zabini scoffed. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Parkinson. My only goal is to find out the truth—whether I get it or not, there will be no violence involved. Your pathetic excuse for a betrothed will be safe."

Pansy's jaw clenched as she looked towards Draco. "I know you two may not be friends anymore, but you're still family. If _anything_ happens to him, I'll be coming for you, Malfoy."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Is that a threat?"

Pansy laughed. "No—it's a promise." And with that she stormed out of Blaise's dorm, the door shutting with a slam behind her. Draco felt sick to his stomach as Blaise was softly chuckling to himself.

"It's Christmas and she wants to make death threats." He said amusingly. "Oh, how I love the holidays."

* * *

The Great Hall looked amazing for Christmas. There were dozens of frost colored Christmas trees surrounding the room and there were streamers of holly and mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Enchanted snow was even falling from the ceiling—Hogwarts looked like a true winter wonderland. The Christmas feast was brought in by a few carols led by Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid.

Tobias was becoming more and more agitated by the minute. He had sent Theodore to get a lock of Crabbe and Goyle's hair an hour ago—and he wasn't back yet. He knew that he shouldn't have sent the troublesome Slytherin to retrieve something like that, but in all honesty—Theodore was the only one who could actually pull it off.

"I think someone's feeling aggy because there aren't any mudbloods to petrify."

Tobias rolled his eyes. "Now isn't the time, Zabini."

Blaise sat down across from him. "When will it be time, LeStrange? When will you tell us all the truth—that you're the one attacking the muggle- born students."

" _It isn't me_." The dark- haired Slytherin growled.

"How many lies will you tell?" Blaise said lowly, leaning across the table. "But it doesn't matter, because your time just ran out." He then got up and left the table, leaving Tobias confused and worried at the same time. This could not be happening.

The doors to the Great Hall burst opened, and Theodore Nott came rushing in. He slid into his seat and was breathing heavily. He slammed his fist on the table, revealing two large clumps of hair.

"I….got… them." He breathed out, before banging his head against the table. Tobias looked at the clumps of hair, trying to figure out how exactly Theodore got this much.

"Theodore—"

The Slytherin put up a hand. "No need to thank me. It was hard—but it wasn't impossible. Proof on the table."

Tobias closed his eyes. "Theodore, we didn't _need_ a whole wad of hair, just a strand."

Theodore raised his head. "Why didn't you tell me that?!"

" _I did._ "

"Well ya know, sometimes the things you say go in one ear and out the other, so I probably just missed it."

Tobias sighed. "You know what, it's fine. We got the hairs. That's the important part."

* * *

Hermione, Ron, and Neville were sitting at the Gryffindor table. The boys were waiting for Hermione to tell them her grand plan to get Crabbe and Goyle's hairs. They were confused when the witch held up two chocolate cakes.

"Inside these cakes are a simple Sleeping Draught. All you two have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."

Neville gulped. "Hermione, I don't think—"

"This could go seriously wrong—" Ron added in.

"You _want_ to investigate Malfoy, don't you?" Ron nodded eagerly, while Neville did a slight nod. "The potion will be useless without Crabbe and Goyle's hair."

"Fine." Ron said quickly. "But what about you?"

Hermione pulled out the strand of hair from her pocket. "I'm still using Parkinson's hair. I made an agreement with Daphne Greengrass—Pansy Parkinson will not be leaving the Slytherin dorms tonight."

"How did you do that?" Neville asked, astonished.

"A better question would be:" Ron grumbled. "Where are _they_ going?"

Hermione and Neville looked up to see Draco and Zabini leaving the Great Hall. The feast wasn't over and there wasn't anything to do over the break that would require them to leave early. Deep down inside, Hermione was worried for Draco—whatever Zabini had him doing couldn't be good. But she wouldn't express her thoughts to Ron and Neville. Not when they were so close to discovering who the real Heir of Slytherin was.

* * *

After the feast, Tobias and Theodore snuck away to their broom cupboard and prepared themselves for the transformation. Tobias had already taken the liberty of snagging Crabbe and Goyle's robes from the laundry a few days ago. All they needed to do now was take the potion, change clothes, and go investigate Zabini.

They poured the potion into two goblets they took from the Great Hall and dropped the hairs inside. Their potions sizzled and hissed, each one changing colors based on who they were becoming.

Theodore gagged. "I think I'm going to be sick. This looks like a booger."

"At least yours doesn't look like poop water." Tobias growled.

"Is it too late to just beat Zabini senseless until he tells us the truth?"

"Yes."

"Darn."

Tobias held his nose, holding the goblet up to his mouth. "Ready?"

"Ready." Theodore nodded. They both then tipped their heads back and swallowed the polyjuice potion. Tobias immediately felt the transformation beginning. He dropped his goblet as he doubled over—a burning sensation spreading to every part of his body. He could hear Theodore groaning in the background, and soon he felt himself gasping as well. Before his eyes, he saw his hands begin to grow larger and a throbbing in his head that meant his forehead was stretching as well. He felt his hair grow shorter. There was a loud rip and Tobias looked down to notice his chest had expanded to the size of Vincent Crabbe. His feet screamed in pain as his shoes were now too small. And then, everything stopped.

"Theo." He gasped. "Theo, are you okay?"

"I don't know." He heard Goyle's voice say from the other side of the cupboard. "Do I sound like myself?"

Tobias chuckled, becoming uneased by the way his laughed sounded with Crabbe's voice. "It worked."

"Great Merlin." Theodore said as he looked in the mirror. "I'm hideous. _Hideous._ "

"Not for long. This polyjuice potion will only last us an hour, meaning we have to get going now." Tobias tossed Theodore Goyle's robes. "Now get changed."

* * *

Draco patted his face. He didn't look like himself anymore. He was now Tobias LeStrange—his ex- best friend and cousin. He turned around to see that Blaise had successfully transformed into Theodore Nott. The Slytherin was loosening up his robes to match the style of Theodore. Draco could also tell that he was furious at Crabbe and Goyle. They hadn't seen the two dolts since the Christmas feast, and Blaise needed them to keep guard just in case someone came snooping around the dorms.

"I asked them to do one thing!" The Slytherin hissed. "And they bloody messed that up!"

Draco shrugged. "Maybe they got lost, or passed out from all that cake they ate."

"Whatever. Are you ready?"

Draco looked back in the mirror. Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to trick one of his ex- best friends into telling him whether they were the Heir or Slytherin or not? And was he really about to let Blaise Zabini near his cousin as Theodore Nott? He could hear Pansy's words echoing in his head— _you're still family_. He took a deep breath—it was too late now. He looked one more time at Blaise, who was ruffling his hair out—in a sense, he looked exactly like Theodore.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

"I—I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

Ron and Neville had already finished their transformations—Ron as Crabbe and Neville as Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle were now resting peacefully in a broom closet on the other side of the castle. They were now waiting for Hermione to come out so they could pursue Malfoy.

Ron laughed. "Come on, Hermione. Pansy Parkinson doesn't look that bad, plus no one isn't going to know it's you."

"No—really – I don't think I'll come. You two hurry up, you're wasting time."

"Well we wouldn't be if you'd just come out." The red- haired Gryffindor grumbled.

Neville pulled on Ron's robes. "Come on, Ron. Hermione are you okay?"

"Fine—" She said through the bathroom stall. "I'm fine—go on—"

"We'll meet you back here, all right?"

"Just go!"

Ron and Neville pushed through the bathroom door, checking the corridor before walking out.

"Stop wringing your hands like that." Ron muttered to Neville.

"Sorry, I do that when I'm nervous."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Goyle is too stupid to get nervous, now stop."

"Is this better?"

"Perfect."

* * *

Lord Voldemort was sitting in his study. From the way the fire was blazing furiously in the fireplace, one could tell that the Dark Lord was furious as well. His plan was not going as expected—the students were ending up petrified instead of _dead._ He didn't understand—the beast was loose, just as before. It knew what to do—so why wasn't anyone dead?!

 _"Because you're weak._ " He heard a voice in his head say.

"Get out of my head." He said lowly.

 _"Someone needs to be here. To remind you of what our real mission is."_

"There is a new mission."

The voice laughed darkly. _"Raising the boy? That's your master plan?"_

Voldemort gritted his teeth. "You are a child—you wouldn't understand."

 _"Then explain it to me. How long do you think this charade is going to last? Do you honestly believe Dumbledore is just going to sit down and let Harry Potter grow up to be your heir? The Harry Potter—the one the prophecy said is supposed to destroy you?_

"SHUT UP!"

The voice laughed again. _"You've grown old—you've forgotten what all this meant to you. What it meant to me."_

"I will say it once more," Voldemort growled. "Get out of my head, Tom."

 _"I will….this time. But don't be surprised when we are having this same conversation face to face—my Lord."_

The connection was then shut off, and Lord Voldemort could feel the blood rushing through his veins. He then felt vulnerable—the diary was stronger than he thought. It was communicating with him—it was contacting him. And what did the voice mean— _don't be surprised when we are having this same conversation face to face._ The diary wasn't a real person—it was just a part of him.

Or was it?

* * *

Ron and Neville had been wandering the corridors for the past ten minutes, looking for a Slytherin they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but so far they had no such luck. Neville even made the mistake of asking a Ravenclaw where it was. They almost gave up and went back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to ask Hermione, when Ron spotted a speck of green walking down another corridor.

"Ha!" He said excitedly. "There's one of them now!"

They rushed towards the Slytherin, but slowed down as they reached their target. Neville felt his heart drop and Ron looked baffled. The good news was, they found a Slytherin, but it wasn't just any Slytherin—it was Crabbe and Goyle.

"What are you doing out of the broom closet?" Neville blurted out.

Tobias raised an eyebrow, analyzing Goyle. If he didn't know any better, Goyle was standing like Neville did when he was nervous.

"We walked out, duh!" Theodore snapped back. "How you'd get your hair to grow back so fast?"

Ron touched Crabbe's hair. " _My hair_?"

Tobias looked at Crabbe, there was something familiar about the way he was speaking. He almost sounded like Ron, but he couldn't tell because of the voice.

"Remember, I pulled it out." Theodore said back.

" _Shush_." Tobias hissed. He stepped forward, and watched as Goyle stepped back, lightly tripping over his shoe—an action Neville would've done when uncomfortable. Crabbe stepped in front of Goyle, his face red—such Gryffindor qualities, Weasley qualities—Crabbe and Goyle would've charged forward like idiots.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Crabbe seethed.

Tobias took a step back, cracking a smirk that he knew would've looked weird on Crabbe's face. "I should be asking you the same thing— _Ron._ "

Theodore did a double take. "Ron? Are you blind? That's obviously Crabbe."

" _Goyle._ " Tobias said lowly. "I'm Crabbe. Remember?"

"Aw go hump a duck somewhere." Theodore's eyes went wide, while Tobias face- palmed himself. "Oops."

Ron raised an eyebrow. " _Hump a duck_? Theo?"

The second Goyle smiled weakly. "Surprise?"

Tobias groaned. "I know that's you, Neville. You're too clumsy to be Goyle."

The first Goyle then turned towards the first Crabbe. "Sorry Ron."

" _Neville!_ "

Neville shrugged. "They already know."

"But we don't know who the other Crabbe is." Ron spat.

"Oh, that's easy." Theodore interrupted. "It's Tobias."

Tobias closed his eyes.

"This is quite a pickle."

"Shut up, Theo."

 **Author's Note: Well we all knew this was going to end badly! Also, Taken has just reached over 100 follows! Whoop Whoop! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	29. COS13: Oh, Holy Night

Last Christmas

I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

This year

To save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special

~ Last Christmas x Wham!

Chapter 29: Oh, Holy Night

Blaise was sitting in the Slytherin common room, waiting for Tobias LeStrange to walk in. Seeing as there was absolutely nothing to do during the holiday, the tan Slytherin was sure that his target would have resulted into staying in the common room for the night. But he was quickly proved wrong, as there was no one in the common room except him—even Nott was nowhere to be found. He sighed, lifting up his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ his mother sent him. He smirked as he read the title of it: **INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**. Lucius Malfoy was calling for Weasley Senior to resign from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department ever since the flying car incident. It was about time somebody did something about that low- life degenerate of a wizard. Blaise remembered his mother saying that Weasleys working in the Ministry would only lead to destruction.

The door to the common room opened, and Blaise was unmoved as LeStrange walked inside. He put down his copy of the paper and watched as the boy walked closer to the table. Either this was the real Tobias LeStrange or Malfoy was really good at acting. But it didn't matter, Blaise had already come up with a strategy to ensure he didn't get caught up in his own deception.

"Butterbeer." He said quickly, trying to mock the eagerness of Theodore Nott.

LeStrange sat down. "Lacewing flies." Blaise lifted his paper back up—this was Malfoy.

"I've looked _everywhere_." The boy went on. "I can't find him."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Obviously, you're not looking hard enough. Have you read the paper?"

"Yeah."

"It's about time your father did something productive." Blaise said from behind the paper, and Draco had to resist the urge to punch him in the face. "If Arthur Weasley loves muggles so much, he should just go join them—I'm sure there are many colonies that would take him and his washboard family."

"What have they done to you?" Draco sneered, his heart dropping once he realized what he just said. Blaise set down the paper, eyeing the boy carefully.

"Are you sure you aren't LeStrange?"

Draco nodded. "It's just—I should be the one complaining. My father has to deal with his father for most of the day, and now this."

"Point taken." Blaise turned a page. "I'm surprised the _Daily Prophet_ hasn't reported all these attacks yet. Probably Dumbledore's way of trying to hush it all up—mother always said Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to this place. These muggleborns wouldn't even think of coming to Hogwarts if we had a decent headmaster."

Draco had to hold his tongue at that. If Dumbledore wasn't headmaster, he would have never met Hermione or Creevy, despite how annoying the boy was. He felt a pain in his chest as he thought about her. She was the reason why everything was the way it was now. But deep down Draco knew it was his fault. Hermione was his friend, and he ruined that. For what? He clenched his fist.

"What's the matter with you?"

Draco snapped out of his trance to see Blaise staring back at him. He quickly un-balled his fist, trying not to look as angry as he felt. He stood up.

"I'm going to look for Nott again." He said as calmly as he could.

Blaise nodded, returning back to his copy of the prophet. Draco turned away from the table, trying to gain control of himself. He didn't know how long he could do this anymore—the anger had subsided months ago, but he had been far too ashamed to return back to Tobias and the rest. He cringed at the thought of making amends with Weasley, but he longed to apologize to Hermione. But the question was: would they even bother to listen to him?

* * *

Pansy stormed down the corridor, her robes whooshing behind her. At this moment in time, she knew two things: 1) Daphne Greengrass was a completely idiot and 2) She was going to _kill_ Hermione Granger. She never minded the bushy- haired witch—she was Tobias's friend which had to count for something. Pansy would have been jealous until she noticed the looks Granger sometimes gave to Malfoy when he wasn't looking. So Pansy was fine with her crush hanging around the girl Gryffindor, even more when the group broke apart. But today, at this moment in time—Hermione Granger had crossed a line.

It was indeed out of character when Daphne wanted to stay up in the girls' dorm all night instead of going to find Theodore, but Pansy didn't question it—maybe the girl had finally realized that Theodore didn't fancy her. But then Daphne wouldn't shut up about Theodore, and even worse—Tracey was adding on to the conversation and Tracey _never_ participated in Daphne's talks about boys. But again, Pansy brushed it off, being relieved that Tracey was talking about something else other than Quidditch. Everything started to make sense when Pansy noticed that Daphne was wearing Theodore's Weasley sweater he'd gotten last year. She remembered the Weasley boy asking for it back when the group went their separate ways. How did Daphne get it?

So after some convincing—or what like Pansy like to call "aggressive motivation"—Daphne finally spilled the beans. Granger had given her the sweater and in return, Daphne would have to keep Pansy in the Slytherin dorms until the next day. Why did Granger need her in the dorms all night? A better question would be: What was Granger up to? And where was Tobias—she hadn't seen him since this morning. There was no doubt that Granger probably suspected him to be the Heir of Slytherin since the Justin incident and devised a plan to find out herself—or worse, make him confess to Dumbledore. Granger may be smart, but she wasn't that smart—no one in their right mind would trust Daphne Greengrass to do anything. So Hermione Granger, prepare to endure the rage of one Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy made her way down the corridor. She shivered a bit when she walked passed the wall that Filch's cat was petrified by but kept walking. She was stopped when she heard a faint sniffle coming from the bathroom. She assumed it was just Moaning Myrtle, but then she heard the ghost laughing and another voice. _Granger._ Pansy turned around and burst through the door, her wand at ready.

"Come out, Granger!" She hissed. "I know you're in here."

Moaning Myrtle glided through one of the stall doors, an amusing smile on her face. Pansy felt nerved by the sight of Moaning Myrtle being so happy.

"Oooooooooh, wait till you see," She said. "It's _awful_."

Pansy lowered her wand a bit as she heard Granger sniffle some more. "Granger?"

One of the stall locks clicked open, and Pansy's wand shot back up. Granger stepped out of the stall, her robes over her head. Pansy could tell that she was still crying. She wanted to feel sorry for the girl, but she couldn't. She needed to know where Tobias was first.

"Where's LeStrange?" She asked. "Why did you make that deal with Daphne?"

Granger sniffed again. "I needed y-your hair."

" _My hair_?" It then clicked. "Were you making Polyjuice Potion?

"Yes." The Gryffindor nodded. "I needed your hair to make my transformation. That's why I asked Daphne to keep you out of the corridors."

"Why?"

"I don't think I should tell you."

Pansy scoffed. "You took _my hair_ , I have every right to know what you wanted to use it for."

"We were supposed to be investigating Malfoy tonight. To see if he was the heir of Slytherin."

"And you thought Malfoy would talk to _me_?"

Granger shook her head. "No, but I figured Zabini would."

"Zabini?" Pansy raised an eyebrow.

"I had my assumptions set on Zabini, I was going to use you to talk to him."

Pansy was silent. _Well played Granger, you're not as stupid as I thought_. But there was still another question.

"So what happened?"

"Huh?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Why are you in here? With your robe over your face? And don't tell me it's because of how I look because obviously—that's a lie."

There was silence and then Granger let her robes fall. Pansy took a step back, trying to hold in the laugh that was dying to come out of her mouth. Once again, well played Granger.

"It was cat hair." The girl said softly. "The hair I took from your robes wasn't yours."

Pansy groaned. "You took it from my robes?"

"The night of the dueling club."

"Granger, those weren't even my robes. Millicent let me borrow hers because mine were in the laundry—they were covered in _cat hair_!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know?!" The girl squeaked. "And the potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

Pansy sighed. "Calm down, Granger. It's going to be alright. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks questions anyway."

Granger nodded, returning her robe over her head. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because Granger, you need at least one girl friend in your life—and seeing as your best friends are five boys who don't even talk to each other, I volunteer to be yours."

The two girls walked out of the bathroom, Pansy checking to make sure no one was lurking about. They then made their way down the corridor to the hospital wing.

"Were you going to hex me earlier?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not." Pansy lied. "Rule number one, Granger: Friends don't hex friends."

* * *

"So you two made Polyjuice potion as well?"

Theodore, Tobias, Ron, and Neville were sitting in an empty classroom, a precaution they took just in case the real Crabbe and Goyle broke out of their broom cabinet prison. They weren't sure how long the potion was supposed to last so they all agreed to stay in the classroom until it did. It had become obvious that both groups used Polyjuice Potion, and now the question was: Why?

Ron nodded. "We wanted to know whether it was Malfoy who was attacking the muggleborns. What about you two?"

"Zabini." Said Theodore.

Neville frowned. "Why not Draco?"

"I know, Draco." Tobias cut in, shooting a look to Ron when he scoffed. "He wouldn't do something like that."

"Like you knew he wouldn't hurt Hermione?" Ron grumbled.

"Zabini's messing with his head, I know he is." Tobias shook his head. "He was going to apologize to her."

"Too late for that."

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of Hermione, where is she?"

"She told us to go without her." Neville shrugged.

"Any reason why?" Tobias asked.

Ron shook his head. "She wouldn't tell us."

Tobias and Theodore looked at each other.

"What?" Ron asked, unable to read their faces.

"You guys do realize you left Hermione Granger," Theodore began. " _the_ Hermione Granger, in a bathroom, _alone_?"

Ron seemed confused. "What's the problem?" He frowned. "There's another troll on the loose, isn't there?"

"Oh Merlin, no." said Theo. "It's just—ya know—"

"She can be a little mischievous when she wants to be." Tobias added in.

"Meaning?" Ron asked.

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Thick I tell you."

" _Meaning_ ," said Tobias. "She might've told you to go on, because she had an ulterior motive."

Neville gulped.

Ron chuckled nervously. "Hermione? No, she wouldn't do something like that."

"Like we thought she wouldn't lie for us last Halloween?"

Theodore nodded. "Or like we thought she wouldn't sneak an illegal dragon through the school?"

"Oh, no." Ron said under his breath. "Maybe she did lie."

"Maybe she went after Zabini." Neville blurted out, and soon turned a dark shade of red when the other three boys snapped their heads at him. Their expressions on Crabbe's and Goyle's faces made the two Slytherin boys look much scarier.

" _Zabini_?" Tobias screeched.

"What the bloody hell is she doing going after Zabini?" Theodore snapped. "Answer me, Longbottom!"

Neville's hands began to shake. "She told me the other day how she thought it may be Zabini attacking the muggleborns."

"And why didn't she tell me?!" Ron roared.

"Because you wouldn't listen!" Neville snapped, and everyone was startled by his tone of voice. "You've been so focused on Malfoy! That's all you want to talk about!"

Theodore snapped his head towards Ron. "I thought you were supposed to be protecting her!"

"I _am_." Ron growled.

"Could've fooled me."

"Enough!" Tobias screamed. "That's not the point. What else did she say about Zabini, Neville?"

"She didn't say anything else." Neville explained. "She just thought he was up to something."

Ron shook his head. "I doubt it. Zabini wouldn't kill a fly. It's Malfoy we should be worried about."

"Here we go." Said Neville.

"His dad was here fifty years ago when the chamber was opened the first time. There's no doubt that he's sent Draco to do it now."

Theodore frowned. "Who told you that wad of crap?"

"Lucius Malfoy didn't go to Hogwarts fifty years ago." Tobias said, his eyebrow raised. "And who told you the chamber's been opened before?

Ron turned red. "Well, Hermione told me about the chamber."

"Dobby came to see her again." Neville added in.

Tobias crossed his arms. "And the information about Lucius Malfoy?" Ron's face went even redder.

Theodore put his head in his hands. "Ron tell me you didn't. I thought Pansy was lying. "

"Did what?" Ron squeaked. "What does Parkinson have to do with this?"

"Who did you get the information from?" Tobias said lowly.

Ron felt his insides clench. It was all coming together now, Zabini had been lying to him. He had told him all these things about Malfoy and his father, and now it turns out they were lies. He felt even sicker that now he would have to admit that he made a deal with Zabini—a deal that was probably the reason all his friends were scattered now.

"I got it from Zabini." He said softly.

"Oh, bloody hell." Theodore groaned, lifting his hands to his eyes. "Hey, my clothes are too big!"

Tobias touched his hair, which had returned to its normal state. "The potion's wearing off." He then turned back to Ron, whose nose was returning to its original length. "Why are you getting information from Blaise Zabini?"

Ron scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know. At the time it seemed like a good idea, Malfoy was acting strange and everything was happening with the muggleborns. Zabini said he knew things about him."

Tobias frowned. "Things like what?"

"Things about his father." Ron shrugged. "But I see now they were all lies. He only told me those things so I could continue to blame Malfoy."

"But Zabini's been hanging with Draco." Neville seemed confused.

"Probably to convince Ron that he was on his side." Tobias groaned. " _I knew it_. I knew Zabini was messing with him."

"And Malfoy doesn't even know." Ron said sadly. "I feel like an idiot."

"You should." Theodore snapped. "Trusting Zabini with anything is like trusting the killing curse to _not_ to kill you."

Ron groaned. "But what does Pansy Parkinson have to do with all this?"

Tobias's interest was piqued, he turned towards Theodore. "Theo?"

"I don't want to break the girl code, but it seems like I'll have to." Theodore sighed. "Pansy found out about Zabini's plan."

"His plan?"

Theodore nodded. "He wanted all of us to split up. Pansy found out when she saw Ron talking to Zabini one day."

Tobias frowned. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"Well, that's also a funny story." Theodore ruffled his hair. "Zabini's blackmailing her."

"With?" asked Ron.

Theodore took a deep breath. "Pansy has a crush on you, Tobias, and she didn't want you to know, but Zabini was going to tell everyone if he found out that you knew about his plan. That's why she told me."

Tobias groaned. "And why didn't _you_ tell me?!"

"I thought she was lying." Theodore shrugged. "Everyone can't be trusted these days."

"So what now?" asked Neville.

Tobias jumped off the desk he was sitting on. "First, we go find Hermione before she gets hurt."

"Then, we get to Draco." Theodore said.

Ron slammed his fist into his hand. "Next, Zabini pays."

* * *

Draco was walking down the corridor, his hands in his pockets. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off a few minutes ago, but the blonde Slytherin was trying to avoid returning back to the Slytherin common room. He didn't want to see Blaise—whether he was still polyjuiced as his cousin or not. He was so desperate for friends, that he became friends with the most hated person in the school. And what was worse, all his real friends looked better off without him. If only he knew where Granger was, he would apologize. To be honest, he missed her—he missed all of them.

He began walking towards the hospital wing—he was going to ask Madam Pomfrey for some Pepper- Up Potion for his stomach. Then after, he would go up to Gryffindor Tower and demand to speak to Hermione. He didn't care if he had to fight Weasley, or the whole Weasley family—he had to see her. He had to apologize. He had to get his friends back.

The doors to the hospital wing opened, and Draco ran to make sure that it wasn't Madam Pomfrey leaving for the night. He sighed in relief when it was only Pansy. She turned in his direction once she heard his footsteps approaching her. She frowned.

"Well, look who it is."

"Piss off, Parkinson." Draco breathed out.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Where's your friend?"

"Zabini isn't my friend. He's a slimy git."

"You're just now realizing that?" The girl crossed her arms.

"I mean I knew before." The blonde Slytherin explained. "It's just gotten intolerable."

"It was always intolerable. You just didn't care cause you were too busy being mad at your _real_ friends."

Draco nodded. "I know that now. I've been an idiot-"

"-Can't argue with that-"

"So I'm going to apologize to them. Granger first, and then the rest."

Pansy crossed her arms. "This isn't some plan of Zabini's, is it?"

"No. This is serious. I can't take this anymore."

Pansy stared at the boy for a moment. He seemed sincere, and it was about time that he realized Zabini was full of crap. She flipped her hair, finally deciding that he wasn't as bad as she thought he was. Give Draco Malfoy some time, and he'll actually turn out to be a good guy.

"Well, you're in luck." She said, dropping her arms. "Somebody's waiting for you inside."

Draco seemed confused. "Who?"

Pansy rolled her eyes again. "Just go inside."

"But what's in there? It's like midnight."

"Just consider this a late Christmas present." She then walked off.

Draco stared at the hospital wing doors. He didn't completely trust Pansy Parkinson—he didn't really even know why she was in the hospital wing to begin with. But he became curious—what was waiting for him in the hospital wing? Well— _who_ was waiting for him in the hospital wing? He burst through the doors, looking around to find someone familiar. His heart dropped, but his face also frowned once he noticed who Pansy was talking about.

He wasn't really sure it was her at first, but the bushy hair gave it away. It was Hermione, but she looked like one of Millicent Bulstrode's cats. He walked over to her bed.

"Granger?"

She snapped her head up. "Draco!" She squeaked.

He sat down on the hospital bed opposite of her. "What happened?"

Hermione laughed softly. "It's a long story."

"I'm all ears." Draco smirked.

"We made polyjuice potion, and I thought the hair I had was Pansy's but actually it was from one of Millicent's cats."

"That wasn't long at all."

Hermione sniffed. "Seemed longer in my head."

"When you say 'we'," Draco said slowly. "You're talking about Ron and Neville, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"Why?"

She then turned to look at him, and Draco wasn't so bothered by her cat appearance—she still had her brown eyes, and that was all that mattered.

"Promise you won't be mad." She said nervously.

Draco laughed, raising his right hand. "Scout's honor."

"No, pinky promise." Hermione held out her pinky, and the blonde Slytherin took it.

"I promise."

The witch sighed. "We were using it to spy on you. To see if you were the one attacking the muggleborns."

" _What?!_ " Draco seethed.

"You said you wouldn't be mad!"

"How can I not be mad, Granger?! You guys— _you_ thought I was Heir of Slytherin?"

" _No!_ " said Hermione. "I thought it was Zabini—but Ron—"

"—of course—"

"—he thought it was you, and there was no convincing him otherwise. I'm really sorry, Draco."

The blonde Slytherin sighed. "It's fine. So you don't think it's me?"

Hermione smiled. "I never did."

"Even after what I said to you? When I called you—a—you know?"

The witch then frowned, and Draco felt all his chances of apologizing float away.

"What you said did hurt." She said softly, sniffling once more. "But I hoped—still hope—that you didn't mean it. But to answer your question, no—I still didn't think it was you."

Draco sighed. "I didn't mean it—I know I'm months late—but I'm really, really, really sorry about what I said, Hermione. And you don't have to apologize to me about that, I don't care. I just miss my friend."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Draco could've sworn he saw her whiskers quiver. "I thought Zabini was your friend?"

"He isn't— _you're_ my friend. Tobias is my friend. And so is Theodore, and Neville, and even Weasley."

Hermione smirked. "And it took you this long to figure it out?"

"What can I say?" Draco shrugged. "I'm an idiot."

The witch laughed. "But you're my idiot."

Draco head shot up. "Does that mean you forgive me?"

"Yes. But you'll have to make it up to me."

The blonde Slytherin groaned. "This can't be good."

Hermione was glad that it was nighttime, Draco couldn't see her blushing. She was glad to have her friend back—these months without all of her friends seemed like a nightmare. But it was no doubt that she had missed Draco the most. He was her special friend—it was something about him that made her smile, she just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Well, it's still Christmas." She said softly.

Draco turned a deep red. "Oh—I—uhh—I didn't get you anything, Hermione."

"I know." She laughed. "Which is why this present won't be so hard to get."

"What is it?"

"I want you to stay with me, for the night." She looked around the room. "It can get lonely in here."

Draco nodded eagerly, a smile growing on his face. "Yeah, yeah. Of course—I'll go tell Madam Pomfrey I have a stomach ache or something." He then got up and ran to the medical witch's office. Hermione blushed once more as she watched him.

* * *

The four boys ran as fast as they could to the Slytherin common room. Their hearts were thumping against their chests and they could feel the blood pumping in their veins. It was already bad enough that Hermione had some ulterior motive to the Polyjuice plan—it was even worse that she was no longer in the bathroom when Ron and Neville returned. They all figured she must've gotten to Zabini, and only Merlin knew what he could've done to her—especially if he found out that the Pansy Parkinson he was talking to was really Hermione Granger.

Theodore yelled the password, not even caring that two Gryffindors were with him. They burst through the door, finding a calm Blaise Zabini sitting on the couch, the _Daily Prophet_ in his hands. He looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Where is she?!" Ron growled.

Blaise set down the paper. "What on Earth are you talking about, Weasley? Ah, I see you've brought friends."

"Cut the crap, Zabini." Theodore snapped. "Where's Hermione?"

"Granger? Why would I know where she is?"

Theodore opened his mouth to say something else, but Tobias stopped him. "You don't know where she is?"

Blaise stood up. "I haven't seen Granger all Christmas holiday." He looked at Ron. "Weasley you should really learn how to keep up with your pets."

Ron pushed through, snatching the tan Slytherin by his robes. "Look here you little—"

"Your threats don't scare me, Ronald." Zabini spat. "I don't know where she is."

"Let him go, Ron." Said Tobias. "I believe him."

Ron let him go, and Zabini dusted his robes down. "I see you all are back chaps again—meaning you all must know." He tutted. "Parkinson will never learn."

"Save it." Tobias snapped. "I already know—and she didn't tell me. Meaning that you can't tell everyone her secret."

Blaise laughed.

"I hate it when he does that." Theodore grumbled.

"Actually, I can. See I told Parkinson if she kept her mouth closed—which obviously, she didn't—I wouldn't tell."

Ron rolled up his sleeves. "Then I guess we'll have to convince you to keep yours shut, aye?"

The common room doors opened, and Crabbe and Goyle burst through. Blaise smirked.

"Right on time, boys. Seems like we're about to have ourselves a common room brawl."

Ron scoffed. "Hardly. It's four on three."

"I hope you aren't counting Longbottom in this." Blaise spat.

"And what if he is?" Neville stepped up, but Zabini only smirked, seeing as the boy's fist were trembling.

"No!" Tobias said. "We're not fighting."

"You're joking?" Theodore said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not. He's going to tell everyone either way."

Zabini smirked. "Smart boy."

Tobias ignored him. "Come on, we have to find Hermione." The dark- haired Slytherin walked out of the common room, Ron and Neville behind him. Theodore stayed behind, glaring at Zabini.

"Forgetting something, Nott?"

Theodore smiled. "Very poor choice of words." He cocked his fist back and punched Zabini in the jaw, causing the Slytherin to fall back onto the couch.

" _Theo!_ "

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Theodore yelled back. He ran out of the common room before Crabbe and Goyle could catch him, laughing on his way out.

* * *

Pansy didn't go back to Slytherin common room—she didn't want to. It was Christmas, and all she ended up doing was helping everybody. She helped Zabini; she helped Granger; she even helped Malfoy. She felt like bloody St. Nick. But who was going to help her? She was still being blackmailed by Zabini, and even if she wanted to tell Tobias, she couldn't. Everyone would then know her secret—everyone would know she had a crush on Tobias LeStrange.

"I know."

She quickly looked up, a rock splashing down in the pit of her stomach. There he was—her betrothed standing before her. She cleared her throat.

"Know what?" She said. "And why are your robes so big?"

Tobias sighed. "Long story."

"I've heard that line enough for one night."

"What do you mean?"

Pansy shook her head. "Nothing. What do you know?"

"Your secret." The boy softly, as if there was someone else lurking through the halls. "Your crush."

The Slytherin girl felt her cheeks go red. "Tobias, I—"

"It's fine. I know all about Zabini blackmailing you for it."

She put her head in her hands. "Great. Now he's going to tell _everyone_."

Tobias raised an eyebrow. "And what's wrong with that?"

Pansy lifted her head up. He could not be serious—but that look in his eyes told her that he was. She groaned.

"Because you don't….like me back." She said the last part at a whisper, secretly hoping that he didn't hear her, or that this conversation wasn't actually happening.

He sat down beside her. "What if I told you I did?"

Her heart stopped. "But you—you like Ginny."

"Like she'll ever give me the time of day." The boy laughed. "But yeah, I do like her, too."

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "You can't like us both."

He laughed again, and Pansy had the sudden urge to thump him. "Actually, I can. I would just have to choose."

"And?"

"And I choose Ginny." He said, and Pansy felt her heart break. "But only because you're one of my best friends—and what if we dated, broke up—and then hated each other for the rest of our lives? I would rather let that happen with me and Ginny than you and me."

Pansy shook her head. "You're a prat."

"But I'm your prat." Tobias chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. Pansy then laid her head on his shoulder, smiling when the boy didn't tense up at her touch.

"So what do we do about Zabini?" She asked a few moments later.

Tobias shrugged. "I don't know yet. Know anybody he has a crush on?"

"I know a few." She chuckled. "One of them you won't like. But he's absolutely barmy for her."

He laughed against her. "Just thought of a plan."

Pansy sighed. "Tobias?"

"Hm?"

"You're my best friend, too."

The boy didn't say anything back, but Pansy almost melted when he laid a kiss on top of her forehead. Right now, she didn't care if Zabini told everybody—Tobias liked her back, even if they couldn't actually be together. But Tobias was right, he was her best friend—and she wouldn't have it any other way. _Happy Christmas, Pansy._

* * *

"What do you see?"

Ron was peeping through the doorway of the hospital wing. Theodore suggested that they look inside for Hermione, but seeing as it was past midnight, they wouldn't be able to barge in without an excuse. Ron looked around the hospital wing, discovering the outline of Hermione's hair in the moonlight. He also noticed someone else in the hospital bed beside her. From the silver glow, he could tell it was Malfoy. He could also tell that the two were holding hands. He closed the door.

"She's in there."

Theodore sighed. "Oh thank, Merlin."

"Shouldn't we go in there?" Neville asked. "She's alone."

Ron shook his head. "Malfoy's in there, too."

Theodore and Neville exchanged looks, surprised at Ron's calm tone at the mention of Malfoy.

Theodore raised an eyebrow. "And you're okay with that?"

"You were right, Neville." Said Ron. "I wasn't listening to Hermione. She tried to tell me that it wasn't Malfoy and I wouldn't listen. Draco's our friend, and I shouldn't have turned against him."

Neville smiled.

"So, you still don't want to go in there and make sure?" Theodore egged on.

Ron laughed. "I'm sure. She's well taken care of."

 **Author's Note: And the gang is coming back together finally! Dramione! Tobias/Pansy! It's a Christmas Miracle! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	30. COS14: Young Grandpa Tom

L is for the way you look at me

O is for the only one I see

V is very, very extraordinary

E is even more than anyone that you adore can

~ L-O-V-E x Nat King Cole

Chapter 30: Young Grandpa Tom

Lucius watched as Fudge took a sip of his wine. He frowned, seeing as it was 10 o' clock in the morning and the Minister was already drinking. But he held his tongue, this meeting was for business—everything depended on this meeting.

"This is a very nice establishment you've brought me to, Lucius." Said Fudge, taking another sip. "But how did you get a reservation on such short notice?"

The blonde man chuckled. "Just the perks of being a continuous donating partner, Minister."

Fudge nodded, gesturing over to a nearby waiter. "Excuse me, my boy, would you mind getting me another glass of this. Would you like one, Lucius?"

"No, thank you. I usually don't drink this early."

"Very well then." The Minster chuckled. "More for me."

Lucius sat up in his seat, preparing to state his claim to the Minister. "Minister, I wanted to talk to you about Arthur Weasley's position in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. I wanted to know your decision."

"Like I've told you before, the decision is made by the Wizengamot."

"But it's been _two_ _months_. Weasley broke the law—he exposed our world to muggles. It shouldn't be that hard of a decision to make."

The Minister nodded. "I absolutely agree with you, Malfoy. In fact, and I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but I was one of the first of the board to agree with you."

"Then, what is the issue?"

"The issue is—oh thank you," Another sip of wine. "This isn't your business—"

Lucius's jaw clenched. " _My business_?"

"You know what I mean." The Minister spat. "You work for the _school board_ —any dealings with Arthur Weasley and his department should be water under the bridge for you."

"But nevertheless," He went on. "I admire your concern—we need more people like you in office, Lucius. People who aren't afraid to step in—even in situations that don't necessarily concern them. But this situation, however, is out of my hands."

"So, Weasley gets to stay?" said Lucius.

Fudge shook his head. "A decision hasn't been made yet, but there's no doubt that he will be staying. Honestly, he's the best we have. People make mistakes sometimes—you should know that better than anyone."

The blonde man stayed silent. He was furious—after everything that went down when the article made it to the prophet, Weasley was going to stay at the Ministry. His house was _raided_ on those laws Weasley made—only to find out that the man had his own stash of muggle artifacts lock away in that broken down shack he called a home. But of course, we all make mistakes.

"But surely that isn't all this meeting is about. Anything new from Hogwarts?"

Lucius blinked. _Hogwarts?_ As Fudge took another sip from his glass, it dawned on the blonde man what he was really here for. To express his concern on what Fudge claimed was "his business." To execute his plan successfully—he knew he needed to be as emotional as he was during his rant against Weasley. Even if this was his doing, he needed to act like it wasn't. He needed to seem like he wanted to protect his son—which he did—but it was more imperative to ensure that Dumbledore wouldn't find out the truth. He heard Severus words echoing in his head.

 _"If you get Fudge to believe you, the rest of the Ministry will fall right behind him."_

"Lucius?"

"My apologies, I was in a daze." He replied primly. "Actually, there is something that I need to discuss with you, Minister."

* * *

 _I don't think we should be friends anymore._

 _Ginny, if this is about the attacks, I told you there's nothing to worry about._

 _But you don't understand! Justin and Colin are in the hospital! Colin is my friend and I can't even remember where I was when he was attacked._

 _And why shouldn't we be friends?_

 _Because all of this started happening when I began writing to you._

 _Coincidences, Ginevra._

 _I'm sorry, Tom. But I can't._

 _You're going to regret this, Ginny. I'm the only friend you have—the only friend you're ever going to have._

 _Goodbye, Tom._

* * *

The five boys were sitting around Hermione's hospital bed. She'd been in the hospital wing for several weeks now. Immediately after the Christmas holiday, rumors began to spread that the bushy- haired Gryffindor had been attacked—Blaise Zabini being the center of these rumors. Pansy's crush on Tobias was also the talk of the school—especially since Romilda Vane told everyone that Tobias actually had a crush on Ginny Weasley.

The group officially came back together the day after Christmas. Draco apologized to Ron and Ron did the same, though Draco was still hacked off about being accused as the Heir of Slytherin. Ron's mother knitted Theodore another Weasley sweater since Daphne took his first one. She even knitted Draco one and the blonde Slytherin wore it on New Year's Day. Everything was back to normal.

Madam Pomfrey had to place curtains around Hermione's bed because students were bursting inside the hospital wing to see the "Granger Cat"—a name Zabini gave her after he saw that she wasn't exactly attacked. The five boys visited her every evening after lessons—Neville was last to sit down, seeing as he was appointed to carrying all of Hermione's homework and books.

"Hermione." Neville grunted. "I think you should focus on getting better, instead of doing work."

The witched laughed as she watched him struggle with her books. "Don't be silly, Neville, I've got to keep up."

"It's not like you'll fall behind." Said Draco. "You're top of the class."

"And I have to _stay_ there."

"But in good news." Tobias cut in. "You don't look so much like a cat anymore."

It was true. All the hair from Hermione's face was now gone and she stopped coughing up hair balls a few days ago.

"Aw," Theodore frowned. "I was starting to get used to furry Hermione. Just _look at those eyes._ " He cooed.

"Bugger off." Hermione laughed. "But in other news—any leads on the Heir of Slytherin?"

Tobias shook his head. "None."

"Now that we know it's not one of us," Said Draco. "It could literally be anybody. Me, Tobias, Theodore, and Zabini are the only heirs at Hogwarts."

"Ooooo shiny." Theodore squealed suddenly, snatching a gold card from under Hermione's pillow. The witch turned an embarrassing red.

"No, Theo, don't." She cried.

" _To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart_ —he sent you this?"

Draco crossed his arms. "A better question would be why do you have it under your pillow?"

"A question for another time." Madam Pomfrey cut in, a vial of medicine in her had. "It's getting late—you all have lessons in the morning."

The five boys then left, saying their goodbyes to Hermione.

"There must be something we're missing." Tobias said on their way out. "The attacker had to leave something behind."

"I wish he'd left behind his secret." Theo grumbled. "Snape needs to be offed. All this homework, I'll be dead before I finish it."

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS!"

The boys stopped as the outburst pierced their ears.

"That was Filch." Neville said nervously, looking at the others.

"Come on." Tobias hurried up the stairs and the rest followed him.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" Ron asked.

"That wouldn't surprise me." Said Theodore.

As they reached the top of the steps, they could see Filch mopping furiously towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"— _even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore—_ "

He then slammed the mop down and stomped away. His footsteps then grew softer and there was the sound of a door slamming. The boys proceeded to climb the rest of the steps, now standing in the spot where Filch's cat was attacked.

"I don't think I should be here." Theodore said slowly. "Filch still has it out for me."

"Shush." Tobias said quickly, pointing to something on the ground. "Look."

There was a flood of water covering at least half of the corridor. Tobias looked towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and soon realized that it was the source of the water. They could hear the ghost's cries and whines from outside the door.

"What's wrong with her _now_?" Draco hissed.

Tobias walked through the water towards the bathroom door. "Only one way to find out."

Draco looked startled. "You're not going in there, are you?"

"It's not scary," Theodore waved his hand dismissively. "We've been in here loads of time."

The five entered the bathroom, Draco at the end—looking to make sure nobody saw them walk inside. From the sounds of her cries, Myrtle was hiding in her usual toilet. It was darker than usual—Tobias assumed the water must've extinguished the candles.

"Myrtle." Tobias whispered. "Myrtle, are you alright?"

"Who's there?" The ghost said wearily. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Theodore groaned. "Why does she always think we're here to do something bad?"

Tobias waded over to her stall. "Why would we want to throw something at you?"

"It's not like she could feel it anyway."

"Shut up, Theo."

"Don't ask _me_!" The ghost shouted, emerging from behind the stall, splashing the five boys in the process.

"Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

"But did you feel it?" Theodore egged on.

The ghost huffed. "Well, let's all throw books at Myrtle, because _she_ can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head—"

"—the head should be a hundred points—"

"—Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I _don't_ think!"

Neville gulped. "Who threw it at you, Myrtle?"

" _I_ don't know…I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death—"

"—is she always like this?—" Draco whispered to Theodore.

Theo shrugged. "I don't know. Hermione said she was happy when she saw her get polyjuiced into a cat."

"—and it fell right through the top of my head." Myrtle then turned to the sinks. "It's over there, it got washed out…"

The boys looked to where Myrtle was referring to and there laid a small, black leather book laying under one of the sinks. There was no doubt that it was soaked from the flooding. Tobias walked over to pick it up, but Ron held out an arm to stop him.

"Ron, move."

"Are you crazy?" The boy said. "It could be dangerous."

"I doubt it." Theodore scoffed. "It's so small—but then again _Sonnets of a Sorcerer…_ "

"I seriously doubt that book is _Sonnets of a Sorcerer._ " Said Draco.

"And there are the ones that burn your eyes out. And you guys remember that witch in Bath that had that book you could never stop reading?"

Tobias shook his head. "We won't know what it is unless we look at it." He pushed Ron's arm out of the way and picked up the book.

"What is it?" Neville asked, hiding behind Theodore.

"It's a diary." Tobias chuckled.

"And we're laughing why?" Theodore seemed confused.

Tobias turned around, holding up the diary for all to see. "It's my grandfather's."

"Wicked." Said Ron. "Open it up, see what he wrote in it."

The rest nodded eagerly and Tobias opened up the diary, excited to see what his grandfather was like during his years at Hogwarts. He then frowned, all the pages were blank. There wasn't even a scribble or a drawing. No dates. Nothing.

"It's blank." He said, now disappointed.

" _Creepy_." Said Theodore.

Ron frowned. "Why would somebody try to flush it away?"

Tobias shrugged, putting the diary in his pocket. "I don't know."

* * *

February came and Hermione was released from the hospital. The six met up in the library, reclaiming their usual spot from a bunch of first year Ravenclaws. Tobias showed her his Grandfather's diary, telling her the story of how they found it and hoping that Hermione would know something about why the pages were blank.

"It might have hidden powers." She said enthusiastically, taking the diary and flipping through the pages.

Theodore huffed. "It's hiding them very well. I don't even know why you still have that stupid thing, Tobias."

"It was my grandfather's." Tobias answered irritably. "He went here fifty years ago—I just wish I knew why someone else had it and why they tried to get rid of it."

Hermione suddenly stopped flipping pages. "Fifty years ago? Your grandfather went to Hogwarts fifty years ago?"

Tobias nodded.

Hermione grinned, quite bigger than usual.

"I hate it when she does that." Theodore mumbled.

The witch then closed the diary. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago! Tobias, this diary is _fifty years old_!"

"I'm not following." Said Theodore. "Is this the big discovery moment?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What if your grandfather knows who the Heir of Slytherin is? What if he knows about the Chamber of Secrets—where it is, how to open it, what's inside it? He could've written it down in _here_!"

The three heirs looked at each other. Draco sighed.

"While that's a great theory, Granger, there's one obvious problem—the diary's blank."

"It could be invisible ink!" She pulled out her wand, tapping the diary three times. " _Aparecium!_ "

She reopened the diary, but the pages were still blank. She then dug into her school bag, pulling out a big red eraser. She rubbed hard on the page titled _January 1st_ but nothing happened.

"There's nothing to find in there, Hermione." Ron said. "Tobias's Grandfather probably just got it for Christmas and didn't bother writing in it."

Despite the failed attempts to see what was written in the diary, Tobias still kept it. He felt connect to it—it was his grandfather's. It was an artifact from when he went to Hogwarts. He couldn't just throw it away.

To mend his disappointment, Ron brought the other five to the trophy room where Filch made him scrub trophies for several hours when he had detention. He showed Tobias the trophy his grandfather had gotten during his time at school. It was a gold shield with his name written on it—given to him for special services to the school. There was also a medal with his name on it for Magical Merit and he was on the list of old Head Boys.

Ron looked disgusted. "No offense Tobias, but your grandfather sounds like Percy. Prefect, Head Boy… he was probably top of every class—"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Hermione said, slightly hurt.

"I mean, if he _was_ like Percy," Draco added in. "That is a bad thing."

* * *

Valentine's Day was approaching and Hogwarts finally was able to relax—well some of the students were. The Heir of Slytherin hadn't attacked since before the Christmas Holiday and everyone—well mostly everyone—was able to let out the breath they had been holding. Some people believed that it was riskier to open the chamber now that everyone was well aware and on alert. There wasn't any room for surprise attacks anymore. Students travelled in groups wherever they went—no one even dared to step out of their common rooms at night.

Ernie Macmillan didn't take the relieved route as everyone else. Ever since Justin was attacked, he was sure that it was Tobias who was causing the attacks. He tried to convince everyone and anyone who would listen that it was the Slytherin—referring to the events of the dueling club. And Peeves didn't make it any better—coming up with a new song every other day.

What was even worse, Lockhart was positive he was the reason the attacks stopped. He would go on and on about it in class—claiming that his presence was now known to the Heir of Slytherin and that it was wise to fear him.

"The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him." He said during class. "Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

"Or maybe he's planning your death." Theodore said under his breath.

For the rest of the class, Lockhart went on and on about boosting the school's "morale." No one had clue what he was talking about but soon found out once Valentine's Day came.

"This isn't happening." Draco said as the six walked into the Great Hall that morning.

The room looked like a piece of pink bubble gum exploded inside of it. The walls were covered in pink flowers, heart- shaped confetti was falling from the ceiling, and there were large ice sculptures of angels planted by the high table.

Hermione giggled. "I think it's cute."

At the high table, all the teachers looked as if another student was petrified. Tobias could tell that Snape was livid—the vein in his temple was pulsing. McGonagall looked as if she wanted to snap Lockhart's neck—the way he was rejoicing in the decorations and the soft pink robes he was wearing to match the occasion.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" He shouted. "Thank you to the forty- six people who have so far sent me cards! And for those who haven't yet—" He winked. "It isn't too late. I've also arranged this little surprise for you all! And the day doesn't stop here!"

Ron groaned. "Can somebody kill me now?"

Lockhart then clapped his hands, and the doors opened. A dozen of dwarfs with golden wings and carrying harps marched into the hall. They walked in a straight line, tossing Valentine's candy gracefully to the students. Theodore caught a handful of candy, shoving it all into his mouth, but immediately spit it all out, gagging.

"This tastes like soap!" He shouted.

"It is soap." One of the dwarfs grunted.

"My friendly, card- carrying cupids!" Lockhart said, flashing his best smile. "They will be roving around the school today delivering you valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion—"

"—no—" The potions' master sneered.

"—and while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

"Card- carrying?" Neville asked.

Theodore put his head in his hands. "This is not good."

Tobias smirked. "Actually, I think you guys might find this day more exciting than it seems."

"And why is that?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tobias looked across the room, making eye contact with Pansy. The Slytherin girl gave him a slight nod, and he returned it.

"Let's just say Zabini will finally be getting what he deserves."

Draco laughed. "You didn't."

"I did."

Neville seemed confused. "Did what?"

" _Later._ " Tobias pressed on.

Theodore crossed his arms. "Spoils sport. But serious question, how the bloody hell did Lockhart get _forty- six_ Valentines?"

At that question, Hermione's face went red, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Please, Granger, tell me you weren't one of the forty- six."

Her face went even redder.

* * *

For the rest of the day, classes were being interrupted by dwarfs delivering valentines to the students. Theodore had already received six from Daphne and Draco had received two from some first years—two valentines that Hermione "accidently" set on fire. Late that afternoon, the six were walking to charms where they were once again, being chased by a dwarf.

"Oy, you! Theodore Nott!"

"Stay away from me!" The Slytherin shouted back. "I am going to kill Daphne!"

"Run, Theo!" Tobias said. "We'll hold him off."

Draco smirked. "Yeah he's not so tough— _ow_ —he just bloody kicked me!"

Even with the other five and a crowd full of students, the dwarf still made his way to Theodore, despite the fact that the boy was literally running to charms. The dwarf dived for Theodore's legs, holding on tight even as the boy tried to shake him off.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to Theodore Nott in person."

"No, no, no." Theodore said desperately, kicking the dwarf harder.

"Theo, stop!" Hermione cried. "You're hurting him!"

"Well yes, Hermione," Theodore said through gritted teeth. "That is the idea."

"Stay _still_!" The dwarf grunted.

Theodore kicked him again. "Over my dead body."

The two then fell, and everyone gathered around to watch the brown- haired Slytherin and the dwarf battle it out.

"Should we help?" Neville asked, watching the scene nervously.

Draco shook his head. "Be my guest."

To make matters worse, Zabini then showed up. He looked happier than usual, like genuinely happy—nowhere near his usual prat- happy self. Tobias noticed the source of his happiness as he eyed a pink valentine card in his hand. He smirked.

Then Percy showed up, his prefect badge shining like one of the trophies in the trophy room.

Theodore groaned loudly, punching the dwarf in the mouth. "Why are more people showing up?!"

"What's all this commotion?" Percy said promptly.

Theodore then tried to make a run for it, finally freeing his legs from the dwarf, but the small creature had discreetly tied his shoe laces together, causing the boy to fall once more. He then sat on top of Theodore's back, pinning him to the floor and pulled out his harp.

"Right then," He breathed out. "Here is your singing Valentine:"

"EVERYBODY COVER YOUR EARS!"

Ron laughed. "No way, mate. This is golden."

Theo narrowed his eyes at the boy. "You're on my list."

 _"He's the third of the heirs, but number one in my eyes_

 _He's cute as a button, and he's all mine_

"Stop it!" Theodore cried. "I beg you!"

 _He's so divine, he doesn't have to try_

 _Daphne and Theodore Forever"_

"The last part didn't even rhyme!"

The dwarf grunted. "Doesn't have to."

Theodore banged his head against the floor as the corridor erupted in laughter. Hermione and Neville went to help him up, while Tobias and Draco doubled over with laughter. Once Theodore got up, shoelaces now untied, everyone could tell he was furious, but that didn't stop the crowd from staring at him.

"What are you all looking at?!" He growled. "I bet half of you didn't even get _one_ Valentine! At least my woman loves me!" He then stormed away, Hermione and Neville behind him.

As the crowd began to pan out, Tobias and Draco stayed behind, and curiously, so did Zabini.

"Enjoying the view?" Draco asked.

Zabini smiled, that same genuine smile, and it sent shivers up the blonde Slytherins back.

"I have no time for your banter, Malfoy. My destiny awaits me." And with that, he walked away, that smile still on his face.

Tobias snorted while Draco looked awfully confused.

"What's his deal?"

"Later." Tobias said. "I need you to do me a favor. I have to do…something… and I need you to tell Professor Flitwick I had to go to the hospital wing."

"Hospital wing for what?"

Tobias shrugged. "I don't know. Come up with something. Say I have splattergroit." He then clapped his cousin on the back and walked away, laughing softly to himself. Draco stood in the middle of the corridor, alone, still confused.

"Splattergroit?" He frowned. "Has everyone gone mental today?"

* * *

Blaise was never a fan of Valentine's Day—in fact he hated the holiday. But today, something inside of him changed. He had gotten a valentine—from Ginny Weasley. He knew it had to be her. _From your red headed admire._ It definitely had to be her—there weren't a lot of red heads at Hogwarts. He held the card gracefully in his hand, making his way towards the broom closet on the other side of the castle. According to the card, his "secret admirer" would be waiting for him there. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest—why was he nervous? Blaise Zabini was never nervous. But he was, and it got even worse as he came closer to the door.

He took a deep breath as he reached for the door knob. He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. The closet was pitch black.

"Ginevra?" He whispered.

There was silence. Blaise took another step, when he heard someone giggle. For a second he thought it was Ginny, but a wave of dread came over him once he realized whose voice it actually was. Before he could react, a lumos spell was cast and the tan Slytherin came face to face with Pansy Parkinson and Tobias LeStrange.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Zabini." Pansy said primly, crossing her legs. She was sitting on top of a bucket while LeStrange was standing, his arms crossed—that disgusting smirk on his face.

Zabini frowned. "What's the meaning of this?! Where's Ginny?"

"Don't you get it?" Tobias chuckled. "There is no Ginny."

" _Yes, there is—_ " He held up the card. "She sent me this…." His eyes grew wider—he felt all his hopes fall away. He felt something in his chest he had never felt before. Pain. "It was you two."

Pansy applauded him. "Very good, Blaise."

The boy balled his fist, crumbling the card in his hand. "Why?"

"Payback." The other boy spat. "For turning my friends against each other and for telling everyone Pansy's secret."

Zabini laughed darkly. "This is not a game you want to play with me, LeStrange."

"The game's over, Zabini. You lost. We won."

"You should think about that next time you try to blackmail me." Pansy hissed.

Blaise snapped his head towards her. "This isn't over. This is _far_ from over." He threw down the fake Valentine and walked out of the broom closet, slamming the door behind him.

Pansy dusted down her skirt. "I think that went well."

"Really?" Tobias raised an eyebrow. "He looked like he wanted to kill us."

"Good. That means he feels threatened."

Tobias raised an eyebrow at his betrothed. "I've seriously doubted you, Parkinson."

The girl smirked. "Keep up, LeStrange."

* * *

That night, Theodore, Draco, and Tobias were sitting in the Slytherin common room, working on their essay for Professor Snape. But the boys could barely focus as Theodore was ranting about his damaged textbooks and parchment.

"Ink got _everywhere_!" He whined. "I can't even write my essay because my book now looks like something Hagrid would feed to Fang!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Just ask for new ones."

"Says the rich boy."

"You're also rich, Theo."

"That's not the point!" The boy groaned. "Everything got damaged except this _stupid_ _diary_."

Tobias snapped his head up at the word "diary."

"What did you say?"

Theo waved the book in the air. "It's clean. Not even a drop of ink got on it."

"Give me that." Tobias snatched the book out of his hands, he flipped through the pages—Theo was right, the book was just as clean as when he found it.

"Why was that even in your bag?" Draco said.

Theodore shrugged. "I was going to throw it at Myrtle."

Tobias ignored the two. He stared at the pages, trying to figure out why the diary wasn't covered in ink like the rest of Theo's things. He dipped his quill in his ink bottle, dropping a small blot onto the first page. Tobias watched as the ink sat on top of the page and then suddenly vanished. His eyes grew wider, his heart pounding with excitement.

"You guys!" He said quickly. "Look!"

He set the diary in the middle of the table for the other two to see. He dropped another blot on the parchment, watching as it vanished once more.

"What the hell?" Draco whispered.

Theodore gasped. "Wicked. Write something else!"

Tobias dipped his quill again, this time writing a full sentence "Hello Grandfather."

The words sat there for a second, before disappearing as well. After what seemed like years, another set of words appeared on the page—words that Tobias had never written.

 _Hello Tobias._

"Oooo my turn!" Theodore said, grabbing the diary. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

Draco frowned. "Really?"

Theodore's words disappeared, and once again Tom Riddle wrote back.

 _Good evening to you as well, Mister Nott._

"Oh, this is definitely him."

Tobias snatched back the diary, watching as his grandfather typed something else.

 _How did you come by my diary?_

The words faded away, and Tobias quickly wrote back. "We found it. Somebody tried to flush it down a toilet."

 _Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. I am glad that you've found it, Tobias. I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read."_

Tobias looked at Draco, confused about what he meant. The blonde Slytherin shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Tobias wrote back.

 _This diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"The chamber!" Theodore yelled out, slapping his hand over his mouth. Draco nodded in agreement.

"Are you talking about the Chamber of Secrets, Grandfather?"

This time, Tom Riddle's handwriting came back untidier than before. Tobias could tell he was hurrying to tell him all he knew.

 _Yes. In this diary holds everything you need to know about the Chamber of Secrets when it was opened fifty years ago. I was a student here. It was opened my fifth year and attacked several students, successfully killing one. But I caught the person who opened it, and he was expelled. The headmaster at the time, Professor Dippet, was ashamed about what happened at Hogwarts and forbade me to speak the truth. They claimed the girl's death a freak accident. My trophy in the trophy room was given to me to keep my mouth shut. But I always knew it would be opened again—and I knew that they would point fingers at you and your friends, my grandson._

"Well, I'll be damned." Theodore breathed out.

"Well at least we know it has nothing to do with us anymore." Said Draco.

"Yeah," Tobias nodded. "But who was it?"

Theodore shrugged. "Why don't you ask him?"

Tobias dipped his quill back in his ink bottle, preparing to write again, this time faster than before. "Who was it last time?"

 _Rubeus Hagrid._

Theodore frowned. "Hagrid? The Heir of Slytherin?"

Draco snorted. "Hagrid can't even control the pets in his own house."

 _I can show you all, if you like,"_ Riddle wrote, probably assuming that the boys wouldn't believe him. _You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him._

"Ooooo field trip."

 _Let me take you all back, fifty years ago._

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	31. COS15: The Glue of the Group

Didn't look out below

Watch the time go right out the window

Trying to hold on but didn't even know

I wasted it all just to watch you go

~ In the End x Linkin Park

Chapter 31: The Glue of the Group

Tobias felt his feet hit the ground, his body shaking from the sudden floo- like journey he had just taken. He blinked a few times as everything came into view. He noticed Draco and Theodore by his side, each one doing the same. His eyes grew wider as he knew exactly where they were—Dumbledore's office. But it didn't look like Dumbledore's office. Yes, the sleeping portraits were hanging from the ceiling and it smelled the same. But there was something _off_ about it.

Theodore sniffed. "Why is everything in black and white? Are we dead?"

"Nevermind that." Draco retorted. "Who's that sitting in Dumbledore's chair?"

Tobias had already noticed the frail looking wizarding sitting in what was known as the "Headmaster's chair." The man was reading a letter, unmoved by the fact that three second years had just appeared in his office.

"Do you know where Dumbledore is?" The boy asked, but the man did not look up. He continued to read his letter, a frown appearing over his face.

Draco furrowed his brow. "Is he deaf?"

"EXCUSE ME SIR!" Theodore yelled. "WE WANT TO KNOW IF YOU'VE SEEN PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!"

But even as Theo shouted, the man still ignored them. He only sighed, folding up his letter. He then stood up, causing the three boys to brace themselves for what was about to happen next. They were disappointed when he walked past them, not even passing a glance as he drew back the curtains of his office window.

The sky outside was also black and white, but from the faint white light that came through—it had to be sunset or something close to it. They watched as the man went back to his desk, sitting down once more. He continued to ignore the fact that three boys were standing in his office, his eyes focused on the door.

"Maybe we should leave?" Theodore whispered. "This bloke seems like a bore."

Tobias shook his head. "No." For some reason, he felt like they should be here. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was a part of his grandfather's truth.

There was a knock on the door, and the boys jumped as they heard the man speak for the first time since they appeared.

"Enter."

Through the door came a boy around the age of sixteen. He was wearing a black pointed wizard's hat and a set of Slytherin robes—Tobias could tell by the snake patch sewn onto his robes. His prefect badge was shining on his chest—put in a spot for everyone to see. Tobias felt a wave of realization come over him as he noticed the facial features of the boy standing before him. It was him. His grandfather.

"Ah, Riddle." The man said.

"Wicked." Theodore whispered.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" His grandfather responded. Tobias couldn't help but noticed that the younger version of his grandfather looked nervous.

"Dippet. I know that name." whispered Draco. "He was headmaster before Dumbledore."

"Sit down." The headmaster said. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh." Said Riddle, sitting down. His hands were gripped together tightly—what was his letter about?

Before Dippet could say anything else, the scene went blurry again. The three boys regained focus, only to find themselves still in Dippet's office—the young Tom Riddle still sitting across from him.

Theodore frowned in confusion. "What the bloody hell just happened?"

"I don't know." Replied Tobias, not taking his eyes of the scene.

"The thing is, Tom," Dippet sighed. "Special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…"

Riddle sat up straighter. "You mean all these attacks, sir?"

Tobias, Draco, and Theodore exchanged looks—their ears now opened for more.

Dippet nodded. "Precisely. My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl… You will be safe by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the—er—source of all this unpleasantness…"

"Oh, no—they can't close Hogwarts." Theodore fretted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "It obvious they didn't, Theo."

"Oh yeah."

The young Riddle's eyes had widened. "Sir, you can't be serious? They can't _close_ Hogwarts. This is my _home_ —I have nowhere else to go."

"I'm sorry, Tom." Dippet said apologetically. "But there's nothing I can do."

Tobias watched closely—this couldn't be it. Hogwarts was still opened. What did his grandfather say or do that made the attacks stop? There had to be more.

"Sir—if the person was caught—if it all stopped—"

There it was.

"What do you mean?" The headmaster squeaked, sitting up to get a better look at the young Slytherin. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

Tobias felt his heart beat ten times faster against his chest. Here was the moment—the confession. The answer to the mystery. Who was the real Heir of Slytherin?

"No, sir." Riddle responded, and though Tobias should have felt disappointed, he didn't. He was more intrigued than anything—his grandfather's "no" sounded very much like the same "no" he had given Dumbledore the last time he was in his office.

"That can't be right." Draco said. "He said he knew."

Theodore shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't know yet?"

"No, he does." Tobias answered bluntly. "But why is he hiding it?"

He watched as Dipped sank back in his chair, now utterly disappointed.

"You may go, Tom…."

The young Tom Riddle then slid out his chair and walked out of the room. The three Slytherins followed him, stopping a few steps above him as he stopped at the Gargoyle statue. Tobias could tell that he was thinking about something—he knew that face. As suddenly as he stopped, the young Riddle took off again down another corridor. The three heirs didn't say anything as they followed him—their hearts racing. Where was Riddle going? Where was he taking them?

"Why is everything black and white, though?" Theodore whispered, still confused.

They stopped as they heard another voice, this time more familiar than Dippet's and Riddle's. Tobias realized they were standing in the entrance hall and had now come face to face with a younger Albus Dumbledore. He still had the same features—tall with long hair and an even longer beard.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"

"I had to see the headmaster, sir." Riddle said confidently.

Dumbledore nodded. "Well, hurry off to bed. Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…"

Riddle nodded, understanding the professor's concern. But Tobias wasn't concentrating on his grandfather anymore, but Dumbledore. It was the way he was looking at the young Slytherin when he spoke—Tobias knew that look. Dumbledore wasn't looking _at_ him—he was trying to see through him, as if there was something hiding underneath.

"Yes sir, goodnight." Riddle said back. The four then watched as Dumbledore walked out of sight, and then once again they were on the move. The boys had to run to keep up with Riddle's fast pace. Tobias noticed that he was leading them down to the dungeons—what was down here?

"I don't like where this is going." Theodore said nervously.

"Nonsense." Draco said eagerly. "Look."

Tobias looked to see that the young Riddle had led them to the exact dungeon where Snape held his potions lessons. There were no torches lit, and Riddle had left the door cracked opened behind him as he stepped inside. The three boys lined up against the crack—Draco at the top, Tobias in the middle, and Theodore on the bottom. As they expected a discovery, they were disappointed to find that the door led to another passageway.

They waited for what at least felt like an hour. Theodore and Draco had resulted into sitting on the floor outside the dungeon—Theodore himself falling asleep—but Tobias kept his post, and so did the young Riddle. He was waiting for something—Tobias knew he was, but what was he waiting for? Who was he waiting for?

His answer came a few moments later, when he heard something moving beyond his post behind the door. Someone was walking along the passage.

"Wake up." Tobias hissed, and Draco jolted Theodore awake.

"Whus happening?" The boy said sleepily.

Tobias pointed towards the door. "Someone's coming. Let's go."

The three boys followed Riddle as he quietly followed the sound of the footsteps down the passage. They followed him for a few moments, until he finally stopped walking—there was another sound. A door creaking. A voice. Tobias could hear it as well. He felt like he knew that voice—though it was in a low, hoarse whisper.

"C'mon…gotta get yeh outta here… C'mon now…in the box…"

Draco swallowed. "Is that—"

"Shhh." Tobias held up his hand, but that was the question indeed. Was it him?

They froze as the young Riddle jumped around the corner. They quickly stepped behind him, ready to confirm their suspicions. Tobias could see the dark outline of a large student bent over a box. Tobias felt his heart drop—he knew that bushy hair, he _knew_ that voice. But it couldn't be…no, it couldn't be—

"Evening, Rubeus," His grandfather said promptly, and for a second Tobias was reminded of Blaise Zabini.

Hagrid quickly turned around, slamming the door behind him. He frowned as he realized who the voice belonged to.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"

Riddle frowned as well. "I should be asking you the same question."

"Is it me?" Theodore whispered. "Or is this some serious Zabini déjà vu' here?"

Tobias didn't answer as he watched his grandfather step closer. "It's all over," he said. "I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

Hagrid seemed confused. "What d'yeh—"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise an—"

"It never killed no one!" Hagrid roared, backing against the door. Tobias raised an eyebrow as he heard a small clicking and scratching noise from behind it.

Riddle moved in closer. "Come on, Rubeus. The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is _slaughtered_ …"

"It wasn't him! He wouldn't! He never!"

"Stand aside," The young Riddle then pulled out his wand. Before Hagrid could do anything, Riddle cast his spell and the door flew opened, knocking Hagrid to the opposite wall. And then they saw it.

Theodore gagged. "Okay, that's just gross."

Tobias watched as a large, hairy body scurried out of the room. From the sound of the scurrying, it had more than two legs. The Slytherin heir also became disgusted by the many eyes it had and the pair of razor sharp pincers it had as well. They all watched as Riddle raised he wand again, but the creature jumped on him before he could cast his spell, scrambling out of sight.

The young Riddle quickly rose to his feet again, no doubt his objective being to find the creature once more, but Hagrid stopped him, jumping on him and taking his wand.

"NOOOOOOO!" Was the last thing the three heirs heard before the scene became blurry once more and they were now being pulled back into the darkness. Tobias felt himself, once again, falling and then suddenly landing back into his seat in the Slytherin common room. His grandfather's diary was still opened on the table where he left it.

"Well that was fun." Theodore said, looking at the two. "Can we go again?"

Draco and Tobias glared at the boy.

* * *

The next morning, Pansy found herself sitting in Dumbledore's office. As most girls would be off their rocker by now, the Slytherin girl was completely calm. She had done nothing wrong, and if even if she had, her father told her best— _it's better to appear as if you have done nothing wrong._ So she sat there, her legs crossed as usual and her arms laid primly on the armrests of the headmaster's visitor chair. Everything was perfectly normal about her situation, except for one fact.

Molly Weasley.

The sight of Professor Snape was fine, but _her_? She didn't work here—Pansy was pretty sure she didn't have a job period. But nevertheless, here she was. Flaunting her dingy sweater on some special privilege from Dumbledore.

"Why am I here?" Pansy asked bluntly, wanting to get straight to the point.

Molly Weasley smiled. "Hello, Pansy. I am Missus Weasley, and I'm here to talk to you about something."

"And that is?"

"Nothing serious- just consider this as a little girl talk."

Pansy furrowed her brow. Her eyes widened in realization. _Oh hell no._ She was not about to have this talk. Not with a Weasley—and especially not in front of—

"Oh, no." She said quickly. "I'm not having this talk with _him_ in here." Her eyes shooting towards Professor Snape.

The Weasley woman laughed while Snape sighed tiredly. "No, No. This isn't _that_ girl talk."

* * *

"I wanted to talk to you about the recent events that have happened at Hogwarts."

Hermione was once again sitting in Dumbledore's office. She thought she was in trouble, so she thought of every possible scenario that could've gotten her sent to the headmaster's office. Maybe they found out about Norbert, or what really happened last Halloween. Or even worse, they found out she made Polyjuice Potion. She thought she had disposed of all the ingredients thoroughly, but maybe she made a mistake somewhere. But all those thoughts went away as she saw Mrs. Weasley sitting in Dumbledore's office chair.

"You mean the Heir of Slytherin?" Hermione asked carefully. "The Chamber of Secrets?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Yes."

* * *

"I don't know what to tell you, mum." Ginny said as calmly as she could. This couldn't be happening— _this could not be happening._

Her mother smiled sympathetically. "I know this is scary for you, Ginny. With your friend Colin being petrified and all, but there is nothing to worry about.

 _If only that was true._ Ginny thought. There were so many things to worry about. She had been blanking out during the times of the attacks—waking up in different parts of the castle every time. She thought her worries would stop when she flushed Riddle's diary, but it only made things worse. Myrtle's bathroom flooded and someone had taken the diary. She was sure that Tom would tell all her secrets to whoever had it, now that they weren't friends anymore. Or worse, the same thing that happened to her might happen to someone else. Now the issue was: should she tell someone?

"We just have reason to believe that the one causing these attacks may be a girl. That's why you're here."

* * *

Pansy raised a brow. "And you think it's me?"

"No, no." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "We're interviewing all the girls at Hogwarts. I've just recently spoken with your friend Daphne Greengrass. Lovely girl."

"We are talking about Daphne right?"

Mrs. Weasley laughed again. "Yes. But I want to talk about you, Pansy. Have you seen or heard anything lately? Anything that might help us find out who's conducting these attacks?"

* * *

"No, ma'am." Hermione said as calmly as she could. She didn't know why she lied—she should've told them about Dobby, and what he had told her. But would they even believe her—that the _Malfoy's_ house elf appeared in her home during the summer and once again in the middle of the night at Hogwarts? It was a farfetched story.

The woman frowned. "Are you sure? We know it isn't the heirs anymore, Hermione, you don't have to protect them any longer."

"I'm sure. Everything I thought I knew, proved to be wrong, seeing as it isn't them."

And it was true. If it was a girl—then Lucius Malfoy probably didn't have anything to do with it. Dobby probably heard wrong and became afraid and warned all the muggleborn students. That's what she tried to convince herself to believe—but all of it felt _wrong._ All of this felt entirely wrong.

"But surely you saw something? You were there when Filch's cat was attacked, and when Justin Finch- Fletchley was attacked as well."

* * *

Ginny felt her mouth go dry. She wasn't there that night on Halloween or when Justin was attacked. But she couldn't tell her mother that—she may become suspicious of her. And if they became suspicious, they would ask questions, and Ginny knew what would happened when she answered them. She would be expelled for sure.

"I didn't see anything." She said, her voice higher than usual, but her mother didn't seem to notice.

Her mother then sighed, giving Snape a look that Ginny didn't recognize.

"You may go." Said Professor Snape.

"And I'll be having Percy checking on you daily, Ginny." Her mother said firmly. "There's no need to be afraid—the monster won't hurt you."

Ginny nodded, wiping her eyes and walking out of the office. Once the door closed, Molly sank back into Dumbledore's chair.

"I think the word you meant to say, Molly," Snape sneered. "Was can't. The monster _can't_ hurt her."

Molly scoffed. "And indirectly teach my child pureblood prejudices?"

"Whatever works for you." The man retorted back. "But we have an issue. None of the girls we interviewed knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets. But I think there are a few we need to revisit."

"Like who?"

"Your daughter, to begin with. You didn't drill her like you did the rest of the girls—she could be hiding something and you wouldn't even know."

Molly turned in her seat to face Snape, a frown on her face and a fierce, motherly glint in her eyes.

"I would know if my daughter was up to something. Don't forget I am the mother of Fred and George Weasley."

Snape pursed his lips. "And they cause enough trouble on their own."

"I know my daughter, Severus." Molly said firmly. "And she wouldn't do something like this."

* * *

"Riddle _might_ have got the wrong person." Said Hermione. "No offense to you, Tobias, but maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people…"

The six had gathered in the library that afternoon, and the three heirs wasted no time filling in everyone about their journey to the past last night. The three Gryffindors were shocked to hear that it was Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.

"How many monsters do you think this place can hold?" Theodore asked.

"I just can't believe it was Hagrid." Neville said sadly. "I knew he loved monsters, but never did I think he would let one like that loose in the school."

Draco nodded. "We always knew he had been expelled—we just didn't know what for."

"And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out." Tobias said. "Otherwise, my grandfather wouldn't have got his award."

Ron huffed. "The young Tom Riddle _does_ sound like Percy—who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?"

Tobias glared at him.

"I'm just saying."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "The monster had _killed_ someone, Ron. What was he supposed to do? Sit back and let Hogwarts close for good? He had nowhere to go—he was living in an orphanage."

Ron had no answer for that question.

"This all sounds sketchy to me." Theodore said. "Hagrid wouldn't hurt a fly, yet kill a student."

"But there's a lot of things we don't know about Hagrid either." Draco mentioned.

Hermione nodded. "I agree. You two met him down in Knockturn Alley, didn't you?"

Tobias and Theodore nodded. "That's right."

"What for?"

Theodore scratched the back of his neck. "He didn't say."

They all exchanged glances. Could it be? Could Hagrid be the Heir of Slytherin?

"Do you think we should go and _ask_ about it at all?" Hermione asked, skepticism in her voice.

Draco snorted. "That'll be a cheerful visit."

"What would we even say?" Ron asked. "Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?"

Theodore nodded. "I think we should say that."

Their conversation was interrupted when Ginny approached the table. Tobias felt his heart race, but he tried to stay cool. He watched as she looked uneasy, but tried her best to hide it.

"Hey, Ginny." Hermione said cheerfully.

The girl started to greet them back, but her face went pale. Tobias noticed her point of vision went directly to his grandfather's diary on the library table. He furrowed his brow, trying to piece together her reaction, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Hi, Hermione." She said, turning to her brother. "Ron, Percy wants me to tell you that mum is here, and she wants to see you before she leaves."

The red- haired Gryffindor groaned. "Why is she _here_?"

"That's none of your business." She snapped back, and the six were all surprised by her snappy behavior. She then whipped around and walked off quickly, her flaming red hair bouncing behind her.

"Is your sister always this moody?" Theodore asked.

"Bugger off, Theo." Ron grumbled. "Why is my mum here?"

"They were conducting interviews." Hermione said absent- mindedly, flipping through a book.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Interviews about what?"

"They think the Heir of Slytherin is a girl. So they've been interviewing all the girls at Hogwarts."

Ron's mouth fell open. "And why didn't you say anything _before_?"

"Because I wanted to hear what Tobias, Theodore, and Draco found." She said simply. "All of this isn't making sense. It could be Hagrid, or it could be this mysterious girl. Either way, we're still on a wild goose chase."

* * *

" _Horcruxes?_ I thought—I thought this was for school, Tom!"

To say that Tom Riddle was a secretive person was an understatement—nobody knew _everything_ about him. There were few who knew his real heritage—those few who were now dead. His servants only knew what he allowed them to know—and even then it was cryptic. But he knew there was one person he could trust—someone he could always trust. He wasn't like the rest—because it was a feared trust. He wouldn't say anything to tarnish his reputation—after all—he had hidden one of his greatest secrets from Dumbledore himself.

He clasped his hands together. "You and I both know that's what you _wanted_ to believe, Horace."

The man opened his mouth to say something else but closed it. Tom could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear when he asked the question those many years ago.

"How many did you make?" The man said hoarsely.

"Seven."

"Good, Merlin. _Seven people_ , Tom? You split your soul into seven pieces?!"

"A precaution, one might say." The brown- haired man responded nonchalantly. "But that isn't why I called you here. I need your help."

Horace tensed. "My help? I don't know, Tom. I 've been out of the game for some time now." He chuckled nervously. "I don't know how much help I could actually be—especially on that subject."

Tom smirked. He casually set his wand on the table, the tip pointing towards his former Professor. He watched as Slughorn's eyes grew wider.

" _Surely_ , Tom." He pleaded. "There has to be someone else who can help you with this. I already feel guilty enough, keeping this from Dumbledore."

The wizard shook his head. "There is no one else. You are the only one who knows about this, Horace. _You_ are the only one I can trust."

Slughorn swallowed, and Tom could tell he became uneasy by his confession.

"Don't think of this as a crime, think of it as you thought of it those several years ago. This is me, once again, pouring my curiosities to you. There's no harm in that."

There was silence, and Tom watched as the former Hogwarts Professor battled with his thoughts. The dark wizard smirked as Slughorn's eyes wandered to his wand a few times. After few moments, the older man had finally made his decision.

"What do you need help with?"

Tom nodded. "One of them is contacting me—telepathically."

Horace raised a brow. "As in— _speaking_ to you?" Riddle nodded.

"Yes and it's not in parseltongue. He sounded clear."

" _He_?"

"My sixteen-year-old self." Riddle explained. "The very first I made. Professor, is it possible for a Horcrux to become its own person?"

"That would seem unlikely, but I guess it would depend on how strong the magic is." Horace responded, a troubled look on his face. "What form did it take?"

"It is a diary. And I had it delivered to someone, who is now writing in it—believing that it is just an ordinary diary. Do you think that could've somehow—activated it?"

Horace twiddled his thumbs. "Horcruxes tend to affect the person possessing it—that is why they are kept locked away from the original body. If one possesses the Horcrux too long, it may begin to possess the host—like a parasite—pulling the life out of one to become real itself. But with an object like a diary—that sounds highly unlikely."

"Unless the life inside wants to be free." Tom asked, curiously. "He said something to me—my younger self. He told me 'don't be surprised when we are having this conversation face to face.' What do you think he meant professor?"

"The person you gave it to—do you think they have been talking to _him_ as well?"

"It's a possibility. Given recent events."

"How long have they had it?"

Tom fiddled with his wand. "Since the summer before the term started."

Slughorn sank back in his seat—Tom knew that face. He had realized something, he had put the pieces together—he had the answer.

"I think your diary, Tom." The professor said slowly. "Is trying to possess the host. If this person has been writing to him since the summer, there is no doubt that your younger self has won their trust—and now he will slowly eat away at their soul, until there is no life left in them."

The dark wizard frowned. "And what will become of him—my younger self?"

There was another silence, Slughorn's hands now shaking.

"He will become human."

* * *

March rolled in and everyone believed Hogwarts had returned back to normal. It had been four months since the last attack, and since the interviews—word had gotten out that the Heir of Slytherin was a girl. People fretted over the news for a few days, but eventually let it go, seeing as there hadn't been any new attacks. Whoever the Heir of Slytherin was, they had retired for good. In other news, the Mandrakes Professor Sprout had been growing were maturing successfully—it wasn't before long until those in the hospital wing would become unpetrified.

The Easter holidays came and the students were now distracted with another task—their subjects for the next year. All the boys weren't surprised when Hermione called a "study session" to decide what classes they needed to be in for their third year.

"It could affect our whole future." She explained. "You just can't pick anything."

Theodore groaned. "I don't care about the subjects. I just want to give up Potions."

"We can't." Ron said miserably. "We have to keep all our old subjects. If we didn't, I would've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"But that's very important!" Hermione shrieked, marking another subject on her list.

Draco snorted. "Not the way Lockhart teaches it. I haven't learned anything from him except to not set pixies loose."

"Or how to write a sonnet." Theodore spat. "I pretty sure that won't help us not die."

Neville hadn't said anything since the conversation started. He was too busying pouring over the many letters his family members had sent him—each one giving advice on which classes he needed to choose.

"You alright there, Longbottom?" Theodore called out.

"Do you guys think Arithmancy is more difficult than Study of Ancient Runes?"

"The who-what-now?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They're both equally challenging, Neville. I think you should do both—I am."

"Along with every other subject on the list." Theodore teased. " _Muggle Studies_? Come on, Hermione—that's barely even fair."

"It's nothing wrong with learning about your heritage from a different perspective." The witch huffed.

"Percy says to play to your strengths." Ron said. "So I think I'll go with Divination. Seeing the future shouldn't be hard. I can tell nine times out of ten when Theodore is going to get in trouble."

Theodore huffed. "Something I still don't understand. What classes are you picking, Tobias?"

Tobias hadn't said anything either since the group met up. He couldn't stop thinking about Hagrid, and who this mysterious girl was. Or why Ginny had turned pale at the sight of his diary. He was staring down at his list, trying to pick which classes would help his training. He figured Divination wouldn't be so bad—a future- telling heir could be useful. He pretty much picked the same classes as the rest of the boys, assuming that they would be in the same classes anyway.

"Enough of school talk." Draco said finally. "Slytherin plays Ravenclaw next match."

Tobias perked up when he heard that. There was something good to come out of this. Quidditch. Flint had been working them extra hard at practice—creating new plays just in case another bludger incident happened. Practice had been better, seeing as he and Draco were now on speaking terms. He had been worried about Zabini at first, but it seemed that the tan Slytherin chose to keep his personal feelings separate from the Quidditch pitch.

The doors to the library burst opened and Pansy came bursting through, her eyes locking directly on Tobias's. She looked furious, the way she stormed to their table—bumping into a few first years on the way.

"Oh, this can't be good." He said.

"Tobias, you have to come with me right now."

Draco frowned. "Don't you see we're busy, Parkinson?"

" _Draco_." Hermione growled.

"What's wrong?" Theodore asked.

Pansy ignored them all, he eyes still on Tobias. "Somebody trashed your room."

"Who?" said Tobias.

" _I don't know._ " Pansy said irritably. "But you need to come now."

"Can we come?" Theodore asked. "I mean that's my room too."

"And mine." Draco grunted.

Pansy threw her hands in the air. "I don't care! Bring the Gryffindors if you like, we just need to go _now._ "

The six quickly gathered their things, following Pansy down to the Slytherin common room. They were moving so fast, they didn't notice the looks they were being given as they headed down into the dungeons. Pansy shouted the password as they approached the wall, entering the common room with a swift flick of her wand. Tobias's heart was racing—someone trashed his room? Why? They must have been looking for something, but what was so valuable of his that somebody ransacked his room for it? Who was bold enough to _steal_ from the Heir of Slytherin?

Daphne came rushing to them first, throwing herself into Theodore's arms.

"Theodore!" He shrieked. "I don't know who did it—I just found—"

"Yes, Daphne I am aware." Theodore said. "Now _get off of me_."

They proceeded upstairs to the boy's dormitory, still ignoring the faces from the other Slytherin students. Pansy pushed the doors opened, and what the six saw next was unbelievable.

"Are you sure a tornado didn't come through here?" Ron asked, looking around the room.

Tobias's, Draco's and Theodore's trunks had been opened, the contents of each sprayed around the room. Tobias saw that his black cloak was ripped and now laying on the floor. All of their bed sheets had been torn off—their beds were clean. All their drawers had been pulled out—the contents of those laying on the floor beside their bed.

Theodore's eyes grew wider. "EVERYBODY STOP!"

"Theo, what's wrong?" Draco asked, stopping in the midst of approaching his bed.

"Where's Whiskers?!"

Ron frowned. "Who?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I pretty sure nobody took your stupid red duck."

"Well, somebody took something." Theodore grumbled. "And until I find my duck, nobody leaves this room."

Crabbe and Goyle then walked in, stopping in the doorway as they took in the new condition of their room.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" Crabbe shouted.

"For once, you've asked a question we don't know the answer to." Draco mumbled.

Tobias shrugged. "I have no idea. Someone—I don't know who—they were looking for something."

"How are you sure?" Neville asked.

"Well, it this was done for the hell of it." Theodore said, looking through the sheets for his stuffed duck. "They have one hell of a death wish."

"Is there anything missing?" Hermione asked, helping Draco pick up the books off the floor.

Tobias walked over to his bed, gathering all his books and setting them on his bed. As he put his things back into his trunk, he realized something was indeed missing.

"My grandfather's diary is gone," He said to himself, but everyone heard.

" _What?_ " Ron yelled.

"Not what— _who?_ " Draco growled.

"But—only a Slytherin could have stolen—" Daphne began. "Nobody else knows our password—"

"Exactly." Pansy said crossing her arms. She then turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "So which one of you was it?"

Goyle frowned. "We didn't take LeStrange's stupid diary."

"Yeah right." She spat back. "No doubt Zabini put you up to it—"

"Pansy stop." Tobias said firmly. Pansy stopped talking, though she really didn't want to. She only glared at the two boys, trying to force a confession out of them. But it didn't matter, as Tobias pushed through the crowd of students, slamming the door behind him.

"Found it!" Theodore called out, holding up his red stuffed duck. Everyone was now glaring at him. "What?"

* * *

Blaise Zabini woke up the next day with one thing on his mind. And it wasn't Quidditch—it was what Zabinis knew how to do best. Revenge. He had been planning it for months—thinking of all the ways he could tear LeStrange apart. He realized after Christmas that using Malfoy and Weasley was an idiot move—they weren't the glue of the group. The group could move on without them both, and the two would eventually come back. But they couldn't move on without one person—and that person was the glue. The reason of the group— _Granger_.

So it was simple. What bothered Granger the most? Her blood heritage of course—her undying need to prove that she was just as much of a wizard as everyone else. And then it clicked. Nobody bothered her about it—because nobody really _knew_ what she was. Draco's mudblood outburst was hushed quickly because Zabini didn't push it. And it wasn't because he didn't want to, it was because he couldn't.

Last year, despite his good judgement—he made a deal with LeStrange to tell everyone that Granger being a mudblood was a lie. If Granger actually knew why no one seemed to care about her blood status, she would leave the group for good. LeStrange wasn't supposed to care, but yet he had threatened Zabini to keep his mouth shut. It was perfect.

Revenge never tasted sweeter.

He got dressed quickly and made his way to Gryffindor tower. He needed to catch Granger before she met up with the others.

Luckily for him, Granger was coming out of the common room as he reached the top of the steps. She tried to walk past him, but he put his arm up, blocking her from reaching the stairs.

"What's the rush, Granger?" He drawled.

"Move." The witch said sharply, but it only caused the tan Slytherin to smirk.

"Snappy this morning, are we?"

"What do you want?"

Blaise dropped his hands, glad that he successfully had her attention.

"I wanted to talk to you about something. Something I've noticed."

Granger put her hands on her hips. "And that is?"

Blaise walked around her. "You haven't been rightfully picked on."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that right now, you should be enduring hell on earth from the Slytherin house. Seeing as you're a mudblood, but for some reason—that hasn't happened to you yet."

Hermione frowned. "Why should I care?"

"Why should you care?" Blaise asked, seeming surprised. "You came to Hogwarts to _prove_ that you were just as great as everyone else—because of your blood status—except nobody seems to notice. Why is that? Especially when mudbloods are being petrified left and right."

"Maybe because it doesn't matter."

"But shouldn't it? Don't you think it's strange that you haven't been insulted by anyone else other than me?"

Hermione stopped to think for a moment. She had never really noticed it, but none of the Slytherin students ever insulted her. At first she believed it was because she hung with the three of the Slytherin heirs, but because of Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle, she soon realized that wasn't it. Why didn't anyone acknowledge the fact that she was muggleborn? It wasn't like it was a secret—unless it was.

"It does matter." Blaise continued. "It matters to Hermione Granger that everyone knows she's muggleborn, because then she has something to prove. Because it makes her feel _special_."

"Why does it matter to you?" She snapped.

"I'm your enemy, Granger. It's my duty to see that you're at your best." Blaise smirked. "And besides, I'm the one who told everyone otherwise."

"And why would you do that?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? My life was at stake."

"You're barking." She scoffed.

"You're too smart for me to lie to you, Granger. Remember when we went into the forest last year, when LeStrange, Parkinson, and I ran into LeStrange's dear old grandad? Well, at first, we thought he was a monster—and believe it or not your friend tried to sacrifice me."

"It would've been a service to the school if he succeeded." The girl scowled.

Blaise chuckled. "Ouch, Granger. But let's think about why I'm here and not dead in the forbidden forest somewhere."

Hermione grew silent, her interest piqued.

"You see, me and LeStrange made a deal. I would live, if I told everyone that you being a mudblood was a lie."

Hermione's arms dropped to her side. "Why would he do that?"

"You tell me. Why would your bestfriend force me to keep your blood heritage a secret? Unless, he's ashamed of you."

"He wouldn't—that doesn't—"

"Make sense?" Blaise interrupted. "But if you really think about it Granger, it does. Malfoy is a pureblood, so is Theodore, Weasley, even Longbottom. LeStrange is the _top_ Slytherin heir, surely you would realize he wouldn't want any odd balls in his group."

Hermione shook her head, not wanting to believe Zabini. He couldn't be trusted—she knew that. He could be lying, to turn her against Tobias. The group had already split up once—she didn't want it to happen again. But what if it was true?

"If you don't believe me, ask LeStrange for yourself. You'll be disappointed to find that he won't deny it."

He then watched as Hermione pushed passed him, no doubt heading for the Slytherin common room. He smirked to himself—the glue of the group indeed.

* * *

Tobias was walking down the corridor to the Great Hall. He was excited for today's game—even more excited that today was perfect for a game of Quidditch. His friends were all waiting for him at breakfast and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Nothing could ruin today.

"Is it true?"

He ran into Hermione on his way there. She didn't look happy, and Tobias felt an uneasy feeling rise in his stomach. It took a lot to make Hermione angry—but he couldn't even begin to think about what he had done before she popped the question.

"It what true?" He said.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Is it true that you made a deal with Zabini to _lie_ to everyone that I wasn't muggle born?"

Tobias felt his heart drop. He had forgotten all about that—Zabini told? Of course Zabini told—no doubt he had been planning this ever since the incident on Valentine's Day. But this was low—this wasn't the lies he told Ron or the mind games he played with Draco. He told the _truth_ —and oh how the truth sometimes hurt.

"Who told you that?" Tobias said, trying to change the subject.

"It doesn't matter who told me." The witch snapped. "Is it true?"

The Slytherin sighed. "Yes, but Hermione—"

" _Why?_ "

Tobias could see the tears welling in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking—that he was ashamed to have her as his friend. He had thought about that the night after it all happened, but that wasn't the case. He just wanted everyone to stop picking on her—to stop calling her names. And if nobody knew she was muggleborn, it would stop. But he had grown to see that Hermione didn't care about the names, now it just looked as it seemed.

 _"Kill this time…let me rip…tear…"_

"Are you ashamed to have a _mudblood_ as your friend?" She spat, her body now trembling.

"No!" Tobias said quickly, regaining his focus. There it was again. The voice. "Hermione, I don't care that you're muggleborn."

"Then why?! Why did you make Zabini keep it a secret?"

 _"Blood…I smell…blood…"_

"To protect you." He said desperately. "Did you hear that?"

The girl scoffed, ignoring his question. "From what?! The name calling?! The jokes?!"

The boy scratched his neck, and she scoffed again. She couldn't believe it—all of it had been a façade. All this time she thought he didn't care about her blood status, but it obvious that he did. No one would be caught dead sitting with her—a Slytherin at that. And his reason? _To protect you._

"I don't _need_ your protection, Tobias!" Tears were now running down her face. "I don't need yours, or Draco's or Theodore's or even Ron's! I'm not ashamed of who I am, and I wouldn't care if anyone knew."

 _"I must have it….must taste it…."_

"It's not like that, Hermione." Tobias pleaded. "Can you just calm down for a second? It's that voice again!"

"Isn't it?!" The girl yelled back, once again ignoring his plea. "Everyone else in the group is _pureblood_ , except me—why wouldn't you want to cover up the odd ball in the group?"

Tobias frowned. "Odd ball? What are you talking about?"

Hermione didn't say anything else as she turned around and walked away from Tobias. She couldn't help the tears running down her face. Did Draco know about this? Did Theodore know? And what about Ron and Neville—were they all ashamed of her? She was the only girl in the group, the only muggleborn—she was already an outcast enough.

"Granger."

She looked up to notice Draco walking towards her. She tried to push past him but he grabbed her arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She sniffed. "I'm just going to the library."

The blonde Slytherin raised a brow. " _Library_? The Quidditch match is today, there's no time to go to the library."

"Yeah, well." She snatched her arm out of his grip. "I'm not going. I need to look into something."

She then walked away once more, leaving Draco Malfoy hopelessly confused in the middle of the corridor. She had to get away—she needed to think. And the only place she could do that was the library.

* * *

"THIS IS LEE JORDAN, COMING TO YOU LIVE FROM HOGWARTS! TODAY'S MATCH: SLYTHERIN VS. RAVENCLAW!"

Tobias could barely focus—Hermione wasn't in the stands, and he was about ten seconds away from punching Zabini in the face. He always chose days like this to spit his venom. He felt horrible—seeing Hermione cry like that. Because of something he did—he was supposed to be her friend. He was the one who found out first about her being muggleborn—why did he ever make that stupid deal to hide it? He said it himself, Hermione was one of the most talented witches in the school, especially because she _was_ muggleborn. It was stupid, what he had done—and now it had cost him another friend. And perhaps a few more, once the rest found out. He really didn't want to deal with Draco's temper again—he didn't even want to think about Theo's.

Madam Hooch had just blown the whistle for both teams to mount their brooms when Professor McGonagall stepped onto the field. She was holding a purple megaphone and there was worry and fear written across her face. Something happened.

"This match has been canceled." She shouted through the megaphone. There were boos and shouts—Flint was furious.

"You can't _cancel_ the match." He seethed. "We have to play—we're one win away from the Quidditch cup!"

Professor McGonagall ignored him as Adrian Pucey dragged the Slytherin Captain away.

"All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further instructions. I also need to see the following students: Theodore Nott, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Tobias LeStrange, and Draco Malfoy. As quickly as you can, please!"

Tobias and Draco walked to the middle of the pitch, meeting up with the professor and the rest of their friends.

Theodore looked nervous. "Did we do something wrong professor? Cause I'll tell you right now, it wasn't me."

Professor McGonagall lowered her megaphone, staring at the five boys before her. "No, you are not in trouble. But I need you five to come with me."

The five boys said nothing as they followed McGonagall back through the school and towards the hospital wing. Tobias felt his stomach turn in knots. _Not again_. Theodore felt sick; Draco could felt his heart pounding against his chest. _Not her. Oh please, dear Merlin, not her._ Neville could barely walk straight, tripping on any and everything. Ron's hands were shaking with fear.

"This will be a bit of a shock," Professor McGonagall said softly. "There has been another attack…another _double_ attack."

Draco left no time for McGonagall to open the hospital wing doors as he burst inside, the other four right behind him. They all froze in their spots as they realized the Heir of Slytherin's newest victims. One of them was a Ravenclaw—Neville recognized her as the one he had asked for directions from on Christmas. And beside her was-

" _Hermione._ " Draco breathed out.

 **Author's note: The Heir of Slytherin has done it now! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	32. COS16: Friends of Hagrid

City's breaking down on a camel's back

They just have to go 'cause they don't know wack

So all you fill the streets it's appealing to see

You won't get out the county, 'cause you're bad and free

~ Feel Good Inc x Gorillaz

Chapter 32: Friends of Hagrid

To say she was hysterical would be an understatement. She was losing it—she was losing her mind. She should've left it—she should've left that stupid diary where it was. But no, she had to go after it. She had to get it back, because she was afraid. How stupid it was—her fear that Tom would tell the Slytherin heirs everything she had told him. The fear that drove her into asking Blaise Zabini for the Slytherin password and stripping the room clean until she found it.

Now she was here, in some random corridor she had never seen before, shaking uncontrollably—tears that she never knew started rolling down her face. Her breaths were short—was it getting hotter? She should've left it—she regretted it terribly. Hermione, her friend Hermione—the only other friend she had except for Tom, was petrified in the hospital. Along with Percy's girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater. It had happened again, she didn't even know how.

After she took back the diary, she never wrote in it again. She remembered waking up this morning—and then nothing. She snapped back when she found Hermione and Penelope petrified in front of her—so she did the only thing she could do, run. It wasn't her, she knew it couldn't be her. All her family had been sorted into Gryffindor—she couldn't be the Heir of Slytherin. She kept running, the thoughts whirling around in her brain, until her legs wouldn't take her any further.

She pulled her knees to her chest but had a hard time doing so as something bulky from inside her robes pushed against her stomach. She knew what it was, but she didn't want to believe that it was there. She reached slowly inside her robes, her hands tensing when she came in contact with the black leather diary. At that moment, something inside her snapped. She became angry, snatching out the diary and throwing it across the corridor, a loud thump echoing as it landed.

 _"You can't get rid of me, Ginny."_

She shivered. She knew that tone, that voice—she had never heard before, but she knew. She knew it was him.

"Leave me alone." She whimpered.

He laughed. _"I told you that you would regret throwing me away. What will your parents say when they find out that you're the heir of Slytherin?"_

She balled her fist. "I'll tell them it's you!" She growled. "You did this!"

 _"And who would believe that? That a diary petrified all those students?"_

"Get out of my head." Ginny pleaded, covering her ears. She was now bawling. "I just want it to stop."

There was silence, and for a moment the red- haired girl thought she had shut him up. She was wrong.

 _"It will never stop."_

She felt her heart clench against her chest—it became hard to breathe again. This couldn't be happening—it all started out so innocent. Tom was supposed to be her friend, and now she was afraid of him more than anyone else. More than anyone could be afraid of one person. And on top of that, she was afraid of herself. She couldn't control the moments when she blacked out. She tried to ignore it, she tried to run from it—but all of it failed. She needed help.

She needed it to stop.

* * *

"Draco! Draco where are you going?!"

Wasn't it obvious where he was going? If they didn't realize it now, they'll find out later. Draco Malfoy had had enough. He knew it was foolish for everyone to just believe that the Heir of Slytherin was done—that the school was safe. It was too good to be true—and now it had happened again. Hermione was now petrified. His Hermione. Lying on a hospital bed in the infirmary—she had been attacked. McGonagall said that all that was left at the scene of the attack was a circular mirror. There were no clues—no ideas on who could've done this. Well, there was one idea—and Draco was going to exploit it.

"Draco!" Tobias called out from behind. "Slow down!"

"No." The boy growled.

Theodore was panting beside him. "Where are we even going?"

"To Hagrid's."

Everyone stopped walking then, which made Draco's temper even worse. He rolled his eyes, turning around to find the other four boys frozen in their spots behind him.

"You're serious, aren't you?" Ron asked.

"Of course I'm serious." Draco spat back. "Hermione's in the hospital wing— _petrified._ Meaning she was attacked. We may not know who the Heir of Slytherin is _this_ time, but we definitely know who it was last time. All of this—the attacks, the Heir of Slytherin—it's going to stop today."

"Not so fast, Mister Malfoy."

Professor McGonagall had caught up with them, and Draco cursed under his breath. If he hadn't stopped he would've been at Hagrid's by now.

" _All_ students must return to their common rooms—you are not above the rules. Now follow me, I will escort you back to the Slytherin dungeons."

Draco was literally shaking with rage, but had no choice but to follow Professor McGonagall back to the Slytherin common room. Nobody said a word as they walked down the corridors—it gave the castle an eerie feeling. The corridors were empty, not a student or ghost in sight.

Draco, Tobias, and Theodore entered the Slytherin common room, waving goodbye to Neville and Ron as McGonagall took them back to Gryffindor Tower. All the Slytherins were gathered in the room, Professor Snape at the head.

"Due to recent events," He said firmly. "It is likely that the school will close unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. Despite some of your beliefs, Hogwarts has become home to most of you—and if you wish to continue attending, it would be best to come forward with any knowledge you have."

Snape waited a few moments, but nobody came forward. He rolled up his parchment and left the common room. Once the door slammed shut, the common room became bustling with conversation.

"That's two Gryffindors down, and don't forget the ghost—as well as a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw." Marcus Flint said. "It's obvious that the Heir of Slytherin isn't coming after us, so why should we care? If Hogwarts closes down, I'll just go to Dumstrang."

"I don't know Flint." Adrian Pucey said. "That Ravenclaw girl—Clearwater—she was a prefect. What if the Heir of Slytherin's new targets are prefects? That would mean me."

Draco wasn't listening—he grabbed Tobias and Theodore by their robes and took them upstairs. He quickly closed the door to their room, casting a locking spell behind him.

"So now what?" Theodore said.

The blonde Slytherin shot a look to his cousin. "I'm going down to Hagrid's, tonight. I'll need to borrow your invisibility cloak."

Theodore's mouth dropped open. "Are you crazy? We aren't supposed to leave the common room—"

"I don't care, Theo! Even if it isn't Hagrid, he can at least tell us where the Chamber of Secrets is and how to get inside. I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing."

Theo opened his mouth to protest again, but Tobias cut him short.

"He's right." Said the other Slytherin. "It's been months and we haven't had a single clue on who the Heir of Slytherin may be—this is the only shot we have."

"Someone kill me now." Theo groaned.

* * *

Dumbledore was sitting in his office, the letter from the Minister still on his desk. It was moments like these where the old wizard wished he wasn't Headmaster. He had to make a decision—a decision in which whatever option he chose, someone would be heartbroken. Of course, the Ministry would suspect Hagrid again, seeing as he was accused fifty years ago when the chamber was opened the first time. Dumbledore knew he was wrongly accused, but it was no convincing the Wizengamot otherwise—especially since the attacks stopped after Hagrid was expelled.

So right now, the headmaster had to decide—whether to allow Hagrid to be taken to Azkaban or allow Hogwarts to close down for good.

There was knock on the door, and Dumbledore's frown went even deeper.

"Enter."

The doors opened and Cornelius Fudge and Lucius Malfoy stepped inside. Fudge was wearing his usual plaid suit and scarlet tie with his black cloak wrapped around him. Lucius wore all back, his blonde hair neatly pulled back into a pony tail—his black cane held gracefully in his hand.

"Minister." The headmaster greeted him. "To what may I owe the pleasure?"

Fudge nodded. "Good evening, Albus. I'm sure you remember Lucius Malfoy, head of the School Board."

"Ah, yes. The father of Draco Malfoy."

"Indeed." Lucius said promptly.

Dumbledore gestured his hands towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Please have a seat, it would be rude of me to let you stand there."

The two men then sat. There was a bitter silence for a moment before Fudge cleared his throat.

"Have you made a decision, Albus?"

Dumbledore sat back in his seat. "Indeed I have. You can take Hagrid, but I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence. You and I both know who is responsible behind this."

"Look, Albus." Fudge began, his tone uneasy. But he was interrupted by Lucius.

"As much as we would love to believe that Hagrid has changed since those years at school," The man said. "his record speaks against him. Being head of the School Board, I must do something—the Ministry has to take responsibility—the school governors and I—"

"As that may be, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore cut in. "taking away Hagrid will not help this situation in the slightest."

Fudge took off his hat, placing it on the headmaster's desk. "Albus, you have to understand. Look at it from our point of view. I'm under a lot of pressure, Lucius is under a lot of pressure. Students are afraid, parents are furious. We've got to be seen doing something or we'll lose our credibility. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him, or Hogwarts will close."

Lucius could tell that Dumbledore was trying to think this out. "Surely, this would be an easy decision to make, professor. The life of the students or the employment of their could-be attacker."

"Now, now." Said Fudge. "In times like these, there are no easy decisions."

Lucius's jaw clenched. "Clearly. But seeing as he is the headmaster, some choices should be easier than others—unless he isn't cut out for the job anymore."

"Meaning?" Dumbledore raised a brow.

"Meaning that you're getting old, professor." Lucius drawled. "Some would say too old to know when to stop. There have been four attacks, six if you include your caretaker's cat and the ghost, and yet you didn't even report _one_ to the Ministry."

Fudge stood up, trying to redirect Dumbledore's attention. "I'm afraid it's too late for that talk, Lucius—"

"—too late indeed—"

"We'll be back tonight, Albus. For the sake of everyone, let's keep this between us, we don't want Hagrid taking off—it'll be chaos."

Dumbledore nodded, but his eyes never left Lucius's. He knew the man had something planned—something that Fudge wasn't aware of. But he couldn't decipher it—he would have to find out tonight. But something in his gut told him that this would be his last night at Hogwarts.

* * *

That night the three Slytherin boys set off to Hagrid's. Seeing as everyone was supposed to be in their common rooms, they could not alert Ron and Neville of their mission. They were already having enough trouble making it out of the castle themselves. Teachers, Prefects, and even the ghosts were patrolling the halls, keeping an eye out for any unusual activity. The three boys had to be extra careful—the invisibility cloak wasn't made to block out sounds. Draco had to cover Theodore's mouth when the boy stubbed his toe a few corridors back. Snape was standing a few feet in front of them and if he had heard Theodore swore, it would have been over.

They rushed towards Hagrid's hut, not wanting to waste any more time than they already had. Tobias flung the cloak off of them as they reached the door, knocking quickly as he put his cloak away. The door opened a few seconds after, and the boys had to hold their breath as the great giant stepped out, a crossbow aimed directly at them. Theodore backed up a little as he heard Fang growling in the background.

"Oh," Hagrid said softly, lowing the weapon. "What're you three doin' here?"

Theodore pointed at the crossbow. "What do you have that for? We can't come to visit anymore?"

"No, no, of course yeh can." Hagrid muttered, looking out the door behind them. "I've just bin expectin'—doesn't matter—Sit down—I'll make tea—"

The three Slytherins exchanged looks, but shrugged as they walked inside Hagrid's hut, sitting down at the table. They watched as Hagrid tried to fix the tea, but it looked as if he had forgotten how to do it. He spilled the water from the kettle, almost putting out the fire. The boys jumped when they heard the loud crash of the teapot breaking in his hand.

"Are you alright, Hagrid?" Theodore asked nervously.

Tobias walked over to help pick up the broken glass. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'" There was a slight crack in his voice. He seemed nervous—the way he kept glancing at the windows. He then poured hot water into their mugs, not even realizing he had forgotten to add the tea bags.

"Uh Hagrid," said Theodore. "You forgot—"

But Theodore was interrupted as there was a loud knock at the door. Hagrid immediately dropped the fruitcake he had in his hand, beckoning for the three Slytherins to hide under the invisibility cloak. Tobias threw it over them, all three of them backing up into the far corner of Hagrid's hut. Once Hagrid knew they were completely hidden, he grabbed his crossbow and kicked the door open.

Tobias watched as Dumbledore stepped inside, along with another man. He was shorter than Dumbledore—way shorter. But that wasn't his center of attention, it was Dumbledore. The man didn't look like his whimsical self—he look serious. Tobias was sure that he had never seen the headmaster like this before.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

"It's the Minister." Draco whispered frantically. "Cornelius Fudge."

They all watched as Hagrid went pale, and from the way he kept wiping his hands on his trousers, he was sweaty as well. He plopped down into one of his chairs, not saying a word to either of the men. He looked defeated.

Fudge stepped forward, removing his hat. "Bad business, Hagrid." He tutted. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggleborns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

Hagrid shook his head, looking to Dumbledore for support. "I never. You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir—"

"Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Maybe we could—"

"We've talked about this, Albus." Fudge said sharply. "Hagrid has a record, and we must act accordingly. We have to take him. Wouldn't be doing my duty—"

"Take me?" Hagrid roared, gripping his crossbow. "Take me where?"

"Hagrid." Dumbledore said desperately, trying to calm him down.

"For a short stretch only." Fudge went on, not looking the game- keeper in the eye. "Don't think of this as a punishment, Hagrid, but more as a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology—"

" _Let out_?" croaked Hagrid. "Not Azkaban? Dumbledore—you can'—you can' let them take me."

There was another knock on the door and this time the headmaster answered it. The three Slytherins went wide eyed—Draco especially—as the next guest of the night stepped inside the hut.

"Ah, Lucius." Fudge said. "When you didn't make it on time, I was afraid you weren't coming."

"I just had some loose ends I needed to tie up." The man said coolly, a cold and satisfying smile on his face.

Hagrid stood up, pointing the crossbow at the blonde man. "What're doin' here?" he roared. "Get outta my house!"

"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your—er—d'you call this a house?" He crinkled his nose as he looked around. "I'm only here on business, Rubeus. To speak with Dumbledore actually."

The headmaster didn't make any reaction to Lucius's statement, but Tobias could see the fire roaring in his eyes. "And what exactly did you need to discuss, Lucius?"

The blonde man then pulled out a piece of parchment, handing it to Dumbledore. " _Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore, but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension—"

"No." Theo gasped.

"—you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. At the rate of these attacks, there'll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school."

Draco felt sick to his stomach. His father had ordered Dumbledore's suspension. Tobias felt the anger radiating through him as he watched the scene—how could his uncle do this? He could see the anger that was still blazing in Dumbledore's eyes, and now the anger that had started in Fudge's. He looked unaware—as if Lucius had pulled this trick out of his sleeve.

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," Fudge snapped. "Dumbledore suspended—no, no- last thing we want just now—"

Lucius seemed unmoved. "The appointment—or suspension—of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Minister." The blonde man said smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—"

"See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them. I mean to say, who _can_?"

"That remains to be seen," Lucius said with a nasty smile, and Tobias felt disturbed by it—as if the man knew something that the rest didn't. "But as all twelve of us have voted—"

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" Hagrid yelled, aiming his crossbow once more at the blonde man.

Lucius chuckled, which made Hagrid's anger even worse. "You should watch that temper of yours, Rubeus. My advice would be not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all."

"Draco, I'm just now realizing how much of a prat your father really is." Theodore said, gaining an elbow in the ribs from Tobias.

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" Hagrid pleaded. "Take him away, an' the muggleborns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid." Dumbledore said firmly. He turned his attention back to Lucius.

"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside—"

 _No._ Tobias thought. _You can't leave. Hermione._

"But—" Fudge spluttered.

Hagrid threw down his crossbow. " _No!_ "

However, Dumbledore ignored them—his eyes still on Lucius Malfoy.

"However," He said, this time very slowly and clearly. "you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He then looked away, and for a moment, Tobias could've sworn he was staring exactly at the spot where he, Draco, and Theodore were hiding under the invisibility cloak.

"Admiral sentiments." Said Lucius, bowing his head in mock respect. "We shall all miss your – er—highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any—ah— _killins._ "

The blonde man then stepped out of the cabin, Dumbledore behind him. Fudge stayed inside, obviously waiting for Hagrid to walk out first. But the game- keeper stood in his spot, as if he was gathering his thoughts. He finally took a deep breath.

"If anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff_ , all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."

Fudge looked confused, and so did Theodore and Draco. But Tobias understood— _follow the spiders._

"All right, I'm comin'." He then made his way through the door, but stopped at the threshold. "And someone—someone with brown hair—will need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

The door then closed, and Draco threw the cloak off of them.

"Why do I have dog duty?" Theodore pouted, shooting a look towards Fang.

"Is he _mad_?" Draco shouted. "No Dumbledore means we're doomed. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

Tobias didn't say anything. He was too busy trying to put his thoughts together. There was something strange about Malfoy's visit. He was happy about Dumbledore's suspension—disregarding the fact that the children would no longer be safe with him gone. Something in his gut told him that Lucius Malfoy was still involved in the Heir of Slytherin's plans—he just needed to find out how. He wouldn't say anything to Draco now, but soon—they would need to talk.

* * *

Summer came and the dark scenery of Hogwarts became a more lighthearted and joyful one. The sky was blue and the lake sparkled in the sunlight. The flowers were blooming in the greenhouses and the grass was as green as ever. But for the five second years, everything felt the same. Hermione was still petrified, Hagrid was gone, and so was Dumbledore. Theodore frowned every time he looked out the window, sighing as he watched the grounds with no Hagrid and Fang walking across it. He felt even worse when Fang would not eat his food, or even go out to play with him anymore.

Tobias couldn't stop thinking about those words that Dumbledore said before he left. What did he mean? Surely he wasn't talking about him, Draco, and Theodore—they were Slytherins. It was known that the Slytherin house detested Dumbledore—no doubt the headmaster thought the same of the heirs. Maybe he meant for his message to be sent to Ron and Neville, who were Gryffindors. The dark- haired Slytherin wished he could ask the headmaster what he meant, but that chance would never come.

Now that Dumbledore was gone, everyone was fearing for their lives. Nothing was the same. Nobody wanted to hang out on the grounds anymore. Nobody could laugh freely, joke freely—everything was tense and cautious. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't even allow people to visit the hospital wing, in fear that the attacker may return to finish those petrified students off. She only granted the five boys fifteen minutes when Theodore made up some sob story that Hermione's last wish was that her friends would visit her before the term ended.

"I should've dragged her to that Quidditch match." Draco growled, staring at the petrified witch.

Ron sighed. "We only have fifteen minutes, Malfoy. I don't want to spend the whole time complaining."

"Sorry." Draco ran a hand through his head. "It's just—I don't even know why she wanted to go to the library. She never misses a match."

At those words, Tobias felt his stomach flip. Draco didn't know why Hermione had chosen not to go to the Quidditch match that day. He didn't know that it was Tobias's fault—that he made a deal with Zabini to hide the fact that she was muggleborn. It was his fault that she was petrified—if she had went to the game, she would've been fine. All the horrible feelings came crashing down like a wave as those words left Draco's mouth. He couldn't take.

He stood up from his seat and left the hospital wing, not saying a word to the other four.

"What's his issue?" Theodore asked.

Neville shrugged. "Don't know."

Draco stood up, dusting his robes down. "I'll find out."

"You sure?" Ron asked, and Draco gave him a confused look. "I mean—I can go, if you want to stay with Hermione a little longer."

The blonde Slytherin shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

He then walked out of the hospital wing, searching for his cousin. It didn't take him long before he found Tobias looking out the window in a nearby corridor. The Slytherin had his hands tucked in his robes, and Draco knew that he was thinking hard about something.

"We still had a few more minutes left." Draco said, walking up beside him.

Tobias sniffed. "I couldn't be in there any longer, seeing her like that."

"Nobody wants to see her like that, but you just… walked out."

"What's your point?"

Draco looked at the dark- haired Slytherin. "I know you better than anyone else, meaning I know when you're worried about something."

Tobias was silent, not reacting to his cousin's words.

"Something happened that day, didn't it?"

Draco didn't see, but Tobias tightened his fists inside his robes. Something did happen that day—and it was eating him alive. How could he tell him? That it was his fault.

He nodded.

The blonde Slytherin sighed, turning to look out the window.

"Last term," Tobias started, his voice sharp and cold. "when we had detention in the Forbidden Forest, I made a deal with Zabini. I would spare him from my grandfather, if he told everyone that Hermione being a muggleborn was a lie. Hermione found out the day of the match—it's my fault she went to the library, why she's in the hospital wing petrified."

There was silence between the boys—Draco felt like someone just punched him in the stomach. Why was it _always_ Tobias that knew something he didn't? He knew about Hermione being muggleborn, and he didn't tell Draco. Now this deal with Zabini he didn't know about. He looked at his cousin, and saw the tears slowly falling down his face, though he tried his best to hold them in. Draco knew it wasn't his fault—but he hid that from him, from everyone. He knew what Hermione was feeling now—like she didn't belong.

But even then, that didn't stop Draco from winding his fist back and punching Tobias square in the face. He watched as the boy toppled over, landing on his bottom.

"I deserve that." He said, spitting blood from his mouth.

"You deserve more than that." Draco spat. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I wanted to protect our friend." Tobias shot back. "Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same."

"I'm not. But Hermione doesn't _need_ protecting—despite this situation, that's one of the things I admire about her."

Tobias closed his eyes.

"And it's also not your fault."

"But—"

"You might have been the idiot to make the deal," Draco crossed his arms. "but the bigger idiot is the one who told."

"Zabini."

The other Slytherin nodded. "I think we both agree he has done enough for this year."

"What do you suppose we do?"

Draco smirked. "I have an idea. Come on."

He held his hand out for Tobias to take, helping the boy get up from the ground. They both walked down the corridor towards the Slytherin common room, neither one wanting to return to the hospital wing.

"So does this mean you forgive me?" Tobias asked after a few moments.

Draco shrugged. "I'll think about it."

"I'll take that." The other boy chuckled. "Just do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Don't tell Theo."

* * *

Blaise was very pleased about the whole situation. Granger was petrified—pity she wasn't dead—that dumb oaf Hagrid was gone, and Dumbledore was gone. The days were finally looking brighter for Blaise Zabini. And he wouldn't miss a chance to show how happy he was.

"I knew the Ministry would get rid of Dumbledore," He boasted. "I'm just surprised it was Malfoy's pathetic father that did it. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now—McGonagall is only a placeholder, she won't last long. She's about as old as Dumbledore."

Blaise smirked as he heard Weasley growl behind him. It was his intention to sit directly in front of his five enemies. The atmosphere was already different without Granger—it was more peaceful. Who knew that the petrifying of a mudblood would get Theodore Nott to actually shut up?

Snape walked past their table, not even noticing Granger's missing seat.

"Professor," Zabini said promptly. "Why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Kiss up." Theodore coughed obnoxiously, causing the tan Slytherin to glare at him.

"As much fun as that sounds," Snape sneered. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. He will be back with us soon enough."

Zabini snorted. "Of course he will. But you should think about it Professor, my mother could help your campaign. She already knows you're the best teacher here—"

"—is he really doing this right now?—" Draco growled.

Ron cracked his knuckles. "I know what I want to do right now."

"—Actually," Zabini went on. "I'm surprised that the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now."

Crabbe laughed. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies."

"You're on." Goyle snickered.

"Pity it wasn't Granger." Zabini drawled. "Maybe these disgusting wannabe wizards would learn how to respect their superiors."

Theodore banged his fist on the table, standing up as the bell rung. "That's it! Let me at him!"

Tobias quickly grabbed Theodore, but wasn't prepared as Ron jumped from his seat, his fist aiming towards Zabini. But luckily, Draco and Neville grabbed him just in time.

"Let go of me." He said through gritted teeth. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands—"

"Longbottom, Weasley, Malfoy." Snape barked. "Enough horse-playing and line up. I must escort you all to Herbology."

Neville and Draco still had to hold Ron back as they walked towards the Hogwarts grounds. Tobias walked in front of Theodore, who was going through his breathing exercises to calm down.

Lunch was even weirder without Hermione. Tobias knew it was strange when Ernie MacMillan came and apologized for accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin. He seemed afraid at first, mostly because of the way Draco and Theodore were looking at him, but finally mustered enough courage to say what he wanted to say. Neville observed that his courage came from another Hufflepuff student—a girl named Hannah Abbot.

"I just want to say, Tobias, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. That I suspected any of you. I know you all wouldn't hurt Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said and all the stuff that Justin said during the dueling club. We're all in the same boat now—"

"Are we really?" Theodore asked sarcastically.

Ernie stuck out his hand. "I just want to put this all behind us. You guys aren't like the other Slytherins, and I appreciate that. We all do."

Tobias stared at the boy for a moment. A part of him told him to hex the boy or even humiliate him in front of his friend. But Ernie said something that stuck out to him— _You guys aren't like the other Slytherins._ So he took the boy's hand and shook it.

"Well, there it is." Said Theo. "Welcome to the party."

Ernie and Hannah then sat down, now comfortable with being around the three Slytherin heirs. They sat there in silence, eating their sandwiches and chips before Ernie broke the silence.

"Have you all noticed that Blaise Zabini seems to be very pleased about this? If I didn't know any better, I would say _he_ is the Heir of Slytherin."

Ron frowned. "That's clever of you." Theodore snickered at Ron's sarcasm. It was obvious that the rest had not forgiven Ernie as easily as Tobias did.

Ernie blinked. "Do you think it's Zabini, Tobias?"

"No," The boy said firmly, causing the two hufflepuffs to frown in disappointment.

Neville was hardly paying attention as something else caught his eye. There was a line a spiders, just like the line he, Hermione, and Ron had seen that night when they were investigating the area where Filch's cat was attacked. He then remembered what Hagrid told Theodore, Draco, and Tobias. _Follow the spiders._ They hadn't been able to follow any of the other lines, given the fact that students weren't allowed to roam the corridors by themselves, but Neville couldn't wait around any longer. He hit Theodore on the hand with his fork.

" _Ouch_. Bloody hell, Longbottom!" The boy screamed.

"Shhh." Neville whispered, pointing his fork to the line of spiders. "Look."

Theodore looked at Tobias, who seemed to have noticed the line as well.

"Well we can't—"

"Shh." Neville said again, gesturing towards the two Hufflepuffs at the table. And sure enough, Theodore saw that they were listening curiously. Theodore stood up.

"If you all would excuse me, I have to check up on Daphne."

Hannah gasped. "What happened to her?"

"Uhhh…she died or something." Theodore said quickly. "I don't really remember. Bye."

* * *

"So I have to destroy it?"

"Yes, it's the only way."

"But it'll make me weak, professor, possibly kill me."

"You won't die unless _all_ seven are destroyed. The diary must be destroyed, Tom, or he will become human. And who knows what he will do first."

"….what do I need to do?"

* * *

"Come on now. Why all the long faces?"

Leave it Lockhart to actually believe everything was back to normal at Hogwarts. He was actually beaming, instead of the usual grim faces that the other professors were wearing. The students swapped confused looks, but nobody answered him.

"Don't you people realize," The man said slowly, as if to open them up to some obvious truth. "the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away—"

"Says who?" a boy named Dean Thomas said loudly.

Lockhart chuckled, shaking his head. "My dear boy, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty."

Theodore raised his hand. "I would like to argue that theory. Fudge is sort of a dunderhead."

"Yeah." Ron said loudly. "Fudge would've taken Hagrid in if he was even twenty- five percent sure."

Lockhart chuckled again, causing Ron's face to turn that infamous red color. "I flatter myself when I say I know a _touch_ bit more about Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mister Weasley. And you Mister Nott."

Theodore opened his mouth to say something else, but Draco kicked him under the table.

"We weren't there, remember?" He growled.

Theodore huffed, crossing his arms. "Oh, go hump a duck."

Despite everyone's disinterest, Lockhart kept going on and on about how he knew it was Hagrid the whole time, how he thought the game's keeper was no good and shouldn't have been working in a school anyway.

"You're one to talk." Theo mumbled under his breath.

Ron nodded, gripping his _Gadding with Ghouls_ book so tight, one might've thought he was planning to throw it at the professor. He was stopped when Neville passed him a note. The boy opened it, recognizing Tobias's, Draco's and Neville's handwriting on it.

 _"Theo said the spiders went towards the Forbidden Forest. I say we go tonight._ " Tobias wrote.

" _Better now than never._ " Draco responded.

 _"I'm in._ " Neville agreed.

Ron looked up, noticing that all three of them were staring at him, waiting for his answer. He turned to look at Theodore who also was staring at him, a creepy smile on his face. Ron swallowed hard, a strong feeling growing in his stomach that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one.

* * *

"Dumbledore we have to take this to the school board!" Lupin roared. "Lucius can't do this!"

"He can." Mad- Eye grunted, taking a swig from his flask. "And he did."

Molly shook her head. "And what about the students? Whoever is causing the attacks will surely rise again now that you're gone. No one will be safe!"

"Professor, you know who is responsible." Kingsley tried to reason. "You need to go to Fudge with this."

"Fudge won't listen." Dumbledore said tiredly. "He believes that Voldemort is done reigning terror, since he is now raising the boy."

Lupin growled. "Of course. Lucius has him wrapped around his finger so tight, he'll believe anything."

"What can we do?" Tonks asked.

"There's nothing we can do." Kingsley said sadly. "All twelve governors signed."

"Unless Malfoy blackmailed them." Said Mad- Eye.

"But how would we prove that?" Molly cried out. "Even if he did, the other governors won't speak out against him."

Dumbledore looked towards the Weasleys. "Arthur. I think this is the time where I ask too much of you."

Molly gasped. "Professor, no."

"Molly's right." Kingsley said. "If Lucius finds out, there's no telling what might happen."

"Arthur we have a family." Molly pleaded. "Think about the kids."

Arthur Weasley gave his wife a stern look. A look she knew to be his "final decision face."

"I am, Molly." He said firmly, looking to the others. "The students are in danger, and I'm the only one who can get close enough to Fudge." He looked towards Dumbledore. "I'll do it."

* * *

" _The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout—_ "

"—Theo—"

"- _Down came the rain and washed the spider out—"_

"—Theodore—"

" _—Out came the sun and dried up all the rain—"_

"—can somebody shut him up?!—"

"— _And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again._ "

Ron gritted his teeth. "Are you done now?"

Theodore chuckled. "Don't be such a spoils sport, Ronald. There is nothing scary about the forest."

"Except everything in it." Draco snorted.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Tobias gave Ron and Neville his invisibility cloak so they could sneak out of Gryffindor Tower. The other three heirs, having mastered the art of sneaking around the castle since their last trip to Hagrid's, met them there. With this being Ron's first time going into the forest, he wasn't too happy about it, especially since they were following a trail of spiders to who knows where. Neville insisted that they take Fang along, just in case they run into some type of beast—or Hagrid's monster.

" _Lumos._ " Tobias muttered, and the rest of the boys did the same. Well, all except Ron.

"I'd light mine, too," He said, "but you know—"

"We might all die?" Theodore interrupted.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Shhh." Tobias said, pointing his wand at the ground. "Look."

The boys stopped and watched as a line of spiders were scurrying into a shade of trees. Ron began breathing heavily as Tobias stepped forward.

"You alright, Weasley?" Draco asked, trying to suppress a smirk.

The Gryffindor sighed. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just had to get ready. Let's go."

They then headed into the shade of trees, Fang right behind them. They continued to follow the line of spiders, keeping their wands steady as they walked along the path. They walked for at least twenty minutes, nobody saying a word but Theodore, who kept singing the _Itsy Bitsy Spider._ Neville whimpered as the entered the deeper part of the forest, where they were no longer able to see the stars in the sky and the trees had become bigger and thicker.

"Hold on." Tobias breathed out. Even with their lights combined, Tobias couldn't see anything beyond that. He realized that they had never been this deep into the forest before. Last year, Hagrid had warned them not to deviate from the path—but Hagrid had also said to follow the spiders.

"Ah!" Theodore screamed. "Something wet just touched me!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's Fang's nose, Theo."

"Do you think we should turn around?" Neville asked.

Ron shook his head. "We've come this far."

So they continued walking, now following the shadows of the spiders down the path. They tried to move quickly, but it was impossible because of all the large trees and stumps that were in the way. It was getting darker now, it had to be past midnight. Theodore could feel Fang's breath on his hand, and they had to stop every now and then for Tobias to find the trail of spiders.

Theodore groaned. "This is useless. I'm sleepy."

"We're all sleepy, Theodore." Draco retorted. "Stop whining."

"Well excuse me for wanting to get a good night's _sleep_!"

Before Draco could say anything back, Fang started barking, causing all of the boys to stop in their tracks, their wands at ready.

"What is it Fang?" Ron asked, backing up against Draco.

Tobias squinted. "There's something moving over there. Listen…sounds like something big…"

They listened, their hearts pounding as they heard something snapping branches from their right. It was coming closer and closer, right to the spot where the five and Fang were standing.

"Oh, this is it." Theodore said.

"Oh, no." Ron breathed out. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh—"

"Shut up, Weasley." Draco snapped. "It'll hear you."

"Hear _me_?" Ron spat back, his voice growing higher. "It's already heard Fang."

They stood there, their bodies now frozen with fear as they waited. The snapping of branches had stopped—now there was just a strange rumbling noise. And then…there was silence.

"What d'you think it's doing?" Neville asked.

"Probably trying to decide which one of us it wants to eat first." Said Theodore.

"Maybe it left." Tobias said. "I don't hear anything."

"I dunno maybe—"

The suspense was broken as the boys were now flashed with a bright light. It was so bright that they had to cover their eyes. Fang tried to run but ended up in a tangle of thorns. Ron was the first to put his hand down, recognizing the so- called "beast."

"You guys!" He yelled with relief. "It's the car!"

"You can't be serious." Draco said.

"Come on!"

They followed Ron towards the light, Neville stumbling and tripping on stumps. They followed the light into a clearing where Mr. Weasley's car was sitting. As Ron walked into the clearing, the car lowly rolled towards him, like a dog meeting its owner.

"Well, I'll be damned." Theodore said, walking beside Ron.

"It's been here the whole time!" Ron said gleefully. "And look! The forest has turned it wild…"

And wild it was. There were grass and mud stains all around the car. Fang stood beside Neville, who also didn't want to approach the flying car.

"And we thought it was going to attack us! I wondered where it had gone!"

Theodore frowned as he watched Ron pat the car. "I don't think you should touch it Ronald, it may have rabies."

Despite the reunion, Tobias wasn't focused on the car. They had lost the trail of spiders. He pulled out his wand again.

"We can deal with that later." He said. "We've lost the trail—come on."

But before the group could even take a step, something large and hairy dropped down in front of them. Another moment and Tobias felt something grab him around his middle and lift him into the air. He could hear Ron and Neville whimpers, Draco's curses, and Theo's screams.

"Put me down!" Theodore shouted. "My father's a lawyer!"

Tobias was silent, trying to locate their capturer. His eyes locked on six long and hairy legs, and a pair of sharp black pincers. His heart was pounding, but it had seemed he had left his voice back in the clearing along with the car.

They march into the darkness, unaware of how long they had been hanging. Neville was still fretting and it had seemed as if Theodore had fallen asleep. There was much light, but it was enough to see that they were now surrounded by spiders, all them following the ones that had captured them.

"Bloody hell." Draco whispered as they approached an even larger clearing, and what they saw there had to be the worst thing they had seen all year.

The clearing was crowded with giant spiders. Each one had to be the size of the carts in King's Cross. The spiders carrying the boys then went down a steep hill, approaching a giant spider web that was set in the middle of the clearing.

The boys were then dropped to the ground. Theodore had woken up, shrieking when he realized where they were. Tobias could feel Neville breathing behind him. Where were they?

"Aragog!" One of the spiders called. "Aragog!"

Draco swallowed. "Did that thing just _talk_?"

From the middle of the web, a spider, larger than the ones surrounding them, crawled out. He looked old, the gray hair appearing in the patches of his black hair. His eyes were white, just like the Bloody Baron's—he was blind.

"What is it?" He said irritably.

"Men."

"Is it Hagrid?" The spider said slowly, walking closer to the boys.

"Strangers." Said the spider that carried Draco.

"Kill them" Aragog said instantly. "It was sleeping…"

"Tobias do something…" Neville whispered.

"Wait!" Tobias screamed out. "We're friends of Hagrid."

At his words, all the spiders began clicking their pincers rapidly. The spider known as Aragog paused.

"Hagrid has never sent men into our hallow before." Aragog said slowly.

"That seems obvious." Theodore grumbled.

"Hagrid's in trouble." Tobias responded. "That's why we've come."

"In trouble? But why has he sent you?"

Tobias could tell that the spider was concerned with Hagrid's state, so he used it to his advantage—whatever would keep him and his friends alive.

"They think that Hagrid has set a monster loose in the school—one that's attacking the students. They've taken him to Azkaban."

The spiders began clicking their pincers again, this time more furiously. The clicking felt like eerie applause—it made Tobias sick to his stomach.

"But that was years ago," Aragog said. "Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I_ was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free?"

Draco frowned. "And you… you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?"

" _I_!" The spider clicked angrily.

"Oh, you've done it now." Ron whispered.

"I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me scraps form the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag-"

"Awww." Theodore cooed.

"-and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness…"

Tobias raised a bow. If what Aragog said was true then— "So you never attacked anyone?"

"Never. It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like it dark and quiet…"

"Do you know what _did_ kill the girl?" Tobias egged on.

"Cause ya know, it's back and attacking people again." Theodore added in. "It attacked our friend, Hermione."

Theodore's words were drowned out by another outbreak of loud clicking, and this time the shuffling of angry legs. The spiders shifted around them, causing the boys the gather closing together.

"The thing lives in the castle," Aragog answered. "is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

"What is it?" Draco asked desperately.

The clicking become louder, the spiders were pressing in closer.

"We do not speak of it!" The old spider said sternly. "We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times."

"Maybe we should stop asking questions." Ron whimpered.

Though Tobias wanted to asked, he thought better of it. The spiders were closing in on them and Aragog seemed to be tired of talking. He backed slowly into his web, but his fellow spiders did now do the same.

"Uh, Mister Aragog!" Theodore called out. "Your friends are getting a little too close. If you could tell them to just back up a smidge, we'll be on our way and—"

"On your way?" Aragog said lowly, and Neville gulped. "I think not."

Ron spluttered. "But—but—"

"My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command." Aragog continued. "But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst—"

"-Actually we were carried here-" Theodore pointed out.

"—Goodbye, friends of Hagrid."

"Oh this is not good."

 **Author's note: Sorry about any Grammar Mistakes. I try to catch most of them, but you know how that goes. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	33. COS17: The Greatest, Most Powerful

In my dark times, I'll be going back to the street

Promising everything I do not mean

In my dark times, baby this is all I could be

Don't think my mother could love me for me

Dark Times x The Weeknd

Chapter 33: The Greatest, Most Powerful

" _STUPIFY_!"

" _RICTUSEMPRA_!"

Tobias and Draco wasted no time to defend themselves from the spiders. They whipped out their wands and cast every defensive spell they knew. Theodore could've help—if Neville would let go of him. But either way it was no use—there were too many of the spiders.

"We're doomed!" Ron cried. "We're doomed!"

"Not if we keep fighting." Draco growled, but Tobias could see that he was losing hope as well. For every spider they defeated, three more returned. There was no escape. No hope for Hermione.

"Ah, there goes that light again." Theodore said.

Tobias felt his hopes rise as he recognized the lights. Draco began to fight harder as Mr. Weasley's car came speeding down the hill, bumping into every spider that stood in its way. The car didn't stop until it reached the five boys, its doors swinging open.

"Theo, grab Fang!" Tobias yelled as he hopped into the driver's seat. Draco jumped into the seat beside him while Neville, Theodore, Ron, and Fang jumped into the back. The doors immediately slammed shut behind them, preventing the oncoming spiders from reaching them. Tobias could barely put his foot down on the accelerator when the car took off on its own. They zoomed up the slope, hitting more spiders on the way out.

"Yeah!" Theodore yelled. "How you like them apples?!"

They escaped the clearing, now speeding through the forest—branches slapping the windows and rolling over tree stumps. If Tobias didn't know any better, he would say that the car was following a path—the way it navigated through the narrowest of gaps. He turned around to look at his friends.

"Is everyone alright?"

Neville nodded weakly; Theodore gave him a thumb's up; Fang barked happily; Draco nodded, sighing in relief as his head fell back against the seat; but Ron was speechless—his mouth was gaped open.

They continued their bumpy path through the forest. Ten minutes later, the whishing of branches and narrow turns ended and the boys were relieved to see the patches of sky and the smaller trees from the beginning of the forest.

They barely made it out when the car suddenly stopped, almost throwing Tobias and Draco into the windshield. The doors opened again and everyone scrambled out—Fang dashed back to Hagrid's hut, not wanting to spend another minute outside. Tobias stepped out, closing his eyes as he took in the fresh smell of the Hogwarts grounds. They had made it out alive.

" _Follow the spiders?!"_ Ron hissed. "I'll never forgive Hagrid. We almost died!"

Neville walked up beside him. "I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his."

"That's exactly Hagrid's problem!" Ron roared, storming towards Hagrid's hut. "He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!"

"Calm down, Weasley." Draco chuckled, clearly enjoying Ron's rant. "We're alive."

The Gryffindor snarled at him. "What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?"

"Well one thing we learned," Theodore began, dusting his sleeves off. "never trust giant spiders."

Tobias turned around, facing the rest. "And another thing. We learned that Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent."

* * *

The next morning, Arthur Weasley walked into the Department of Magical Education, his heart thumping so hard he thought it might burst through his chest. Getting clearance into the department was easy, Fudge never looked into such things too deep. The hard part was watching out for Lucius Malfoy, who no doubt would question why he was lurking around the department. He moved swiftly through the desks, making his way towards the one school governor he knew would help him complete his task for Dumbledore.

He made his way to the black wooden door, the name Willis Mannery engraved in gold on the front. He knocked twice, his heart beating triple time. There was no way to check if Willis was in his office—there was no way to check if Lucius would be in his office as well. This was a risk, a very big risk—but he had to take it.

The door opened, and Arthur Weasley let out the breath his was holding. Willis was a short man. He wore a black suit, as most of the school governors did and he wore a pair of moon shaped spectacles, similar to those of Dumbledore. He was bald with tan skin that resembled the Zabinis. He was a very sophisticated man, but his sophistication could only go so far. This incident being one.

"Arthur!" He gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Fudge gave me clearance." Arthur replied, trying to keep his voice steady. He no time for small talk.

Willis looked out the door—Arthur knew he was looking for Malfoy. He tried to ignore this.

"May I come inside?"

The short man returned his focus to the Weasley man. "Yes, yes, of course."

Arthur walked in, and Willis quickly closed the door behind him. He gestured to one of his office chairs while he made his way towards his desk. The man sat down, quickly closing a red portfolio that was laid across his desk. Arthur recognized the red portfolio—it was Lucius Malfoy's signature.

"So what brings you here, Arthur?" said Willis. "We both know that Lucius would have your head if he caught you here."

"Dumbledore's been suspended from Hogwarts." Said the Weasley man. He watched as Willis's face went pale. "You know Hogwarts—where my children go to school."

"Oh yes, Hogwarts. How are your kids?"

"Distraught." Arthur said the word sternly. He watched as Willis began to avoid eye contact with him. He could tell that something was bothering the man. He had an assumption, but he needed proof.

"With these attacks going on and no headmaster, it seems if nobody's safe."

Willis scratch his head. "Well yes, it is a shame what happened to Dumbledore. Very intelligent man. In my opinion, best headmaster Hogwarts has ever had."

Arthur frowned. "You speak so highly of him, Willis, yet, your signature is on his Order of Suspension."

The man went even paler. He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself with another document. "Like you said Arthur, all these attacks, the Ministry had to do something."

"So you take away the _headmaster_?" The man asked, his anger rising. "Let's forget that he's headmaster—it's _Dumbledore_ — _the_ Dumbledore, who has proved on countless occasions—"

"I know. I know." He hissed. "I know what Dumbledore has done. I know what he can do. But—"

Arthur felt his face turn red. "But you suspend him? Out of all the things you could have done, Willis—you side with _Lucius Malfoy_?"

"Shhh!" He waved his wand, Arthur assumed he was casting a silencing charm. He put his wand back in his desk, his eyes now locking with the red- haired man.

"Lucius made a few…..points that I agree with. That's why I signed."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What points?"

The man shrugged. "Dumbledore is getting old and some other valid points. I never really pay attention to those meetings anyway."

The Weasley man knew his statement was a lie. He moved his attention to the now closed red portfolio on the desk.

"What's in that portfolio?" He asked.

Willis spluttered, grabbing the portfolio and shoving it away in a drawer. "Uhh…nothing, nothing. Just some paperwork."

"Looks like one of those special portfolios from Lucius Malfoy. You know the ones—Malfoy gives one to the toffee lady, the next day he's getting free candy baskets for his wife all year long—whenever he wants them."

"Well, it—uh—seems that Lucius has found another reason for red portfolios."

"Really?" Arthur asked. "Because— and excuse me for overstepping—the date on your portfolio says May seventh, which is the day _before_ Dumbledore was suspended."

Willis didn't respond, and Arthur knew he had caught him. The Weasley man took a deep breath.

"He's blackmailing you- _all_ of you."

"You have to understand, Arthur." Willis said desperately. "We had no choice. We thought suspending Dumbledore was _mad_! But Lucius—and these portfolios—my _family—"_

Arthur frowned even harder. "He threatened your family?"

"All of our families." He croaked. "You know he still has connections to the Dark Lord. Fudge wants to keep it all hush hush, and Malfoy is using it to his advantage."

There was the confession Arthur needed, he just needed to order involved. Kingsley would present it best to Fudge, and if Fudge didn't listen—surely he would listen to Dumbledore, especially when the evidence was delivered. He just needed to persuade Willis to give him his portfolio.

"You remember the Order of the Phoenix, don't you Willis?"

The man nodded. "Of course, of course."

"Well, we need a favor." Arthur continued. "We need you to testify to Fudge and the Wizengamot that Malfoy blackmailed you."

" _Arthur—"_

"I also need your portfolio—Kingsley will present it to Fudge, but ultimately you will have to testify. And if you can, get the other governors involved."

Willis shook his head. "Arthur, I can't do that! Lucius would—"

"Lucius won't be able to do _anything_ if he doesn't have a job. You and I both know that Dumbledore belongs at that school."

The short man went silent once more, Arthur assumed he was gathering his thoughts. After a few moments, Willis finally passed him the red portfolio.

"Do what you must."

* * *

The five boys met down at Hagrid's hut. No one was allowed in the library anymore without a professor, and the boys knew they couldn't talk about the Chamber of Secrets with a professor around. So Neville convinced Professor Sprout to escort them to Hagrid's hut, claiming that they all promised to watch Fang—though it was only Theo's job.

"So your grandfather caught the wrong person?" Ron said. "But—but that doesn't explain why the attacks stopped after Hagrid left."

Draco sat back in his seat. "Maybe the Heir of Slytherin didn't need it opened anymore. A girl _died,_ remember?"

Tobias closed his eyes, trying to piece everything together. His grandfather caught the wrong person, Hagrid was innocent. Aragog wasn't the beast from the chamber. The Heir of Slytherin was never caught those fifty years ago. A girl died and her killer was never caught.

"And in the worst of places." Theodore said, a hint of disgust in his voice. "A bathroom."

Tobias's eyes snapped opened. _Bathroom_?

"You guys," He said quickly. "The girl—who died in the bathroom—what if she never _left_ the bathroom?"

Theo frowned. "I'm not following."

"What if she's still there?"

Neville's eyes went wider as well. Tobias could see that Draco and Ron had caught on. Theodore gasped, finally realizing who Tobias was referring to.

" _Moaning Myrtle?_ "

Tobias nodded. "It has to be. She's the only ghost who haunts a bathroom."

Ron ran a hand down his face. "All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away. We could've asked her, and now…"

He trailed off, but everyone knew what he was thinking. They had endured spiders, the pressure of escaping teachers, and the grief of seeing Hermione petrified. The heirs went through months of being convicted as the Heir of Slytherin. All of that—when the answers they needed were floating around in a girls' bathroom.

"We have to go ask her." Draco said.

"And how are we going to get there?" Ron spat. "There are teachers everywhere—and don't forget her bathroom is right next to the first attack. It'll be impossible trying to get there."

Neville shook his head. "Not necessarily."

Everyone turned to look at the dumpy Gryffindor. Neville shrugged.

"The hospital wing is near Myrtle's bathroom. We can tell someone we're going to visit Hermione, and Tobias and Draco can slip into the girl's bathroom to talk to Myrtle."

Ron's mouth gaped open.

"Brilliant." Theodore smiled.

Draco nodded. "Well, that settles it."

The plan was flawless—the others were surprised that Neville thought of something like this. Usually he would be the one to whimper and cower while Theodore, Ron, Draco, or Tobias did the hard work. But just like last year, there were times where Neville could be really brave. This was one of those times.

But all memory of the plan and the Chamber of Secrets left the boys mind when they entered transfiguration. Their world was turned upside down as Professor McGonagall went through her usual announcements.

" _Exams_?" yelled Seamus Finnigan. "We're still getting _exams_?"

The Transfiguration classroom was now filled with whines and groans. Professor McGonagall had just announced that their end of the year exams would begin next week.

Theodore raised his hand. "Professor, I don't think that's fair—seeing as some of our classmates are petrified." There were murmurs of agreement.

"The whole point of keeping the school opened at this time is for you to receive your education." McGonagall said firmly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard."

Draco felt his head spin. Studying? He hadn't been doing anything—they were too busy trying to figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was. There were more groans and disagreements, which only made McGonagall furious.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible, and that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Tobias looked down at the two white rabbits on his desk. What had he learned this year? This whole year felt like an ongoing investigation than an actual learning experience. None of their information on the Heir of Slytherin or the Chamber of Secrets would help them with this exam—or any exam period.

Neville gulped and Ron looked as if they were just asked to follow the spiders once more.

"How am I going to take my exams with this?" Ron whimpered, holding up his damaged wand.

* * *

It was three days before exams, and Ginny found herself barely able to study. She hadn't been sleeping for days- afraid that Tom would take over her body during the night. She made sure to keep herself around a lot of people, and she never walked anywhere alone. But today, she couldn't handle it.

 _"You can't hide from me Ginerva._ "

She tried to ignore it, she really did. She felt herself falling out of consciousness, so she ran towards the Great Hall. He wouldn't take over if she was around a lot of people. She burst through the doors, sighing in relief when she felt like herself again. She needed help—that was obvious. She knew her brother and his friends had been looking into who the Heir of Slytherin was. She knew she could tell them—and that they could help her.

The boys were sitting at their usual spot at the end of Gryffindor table. With exams coming up, they had been so busying studying that they hadn't been able to visit Myrtle.

"Maybe we won't need the plan." Said Ron. "Maybe the Heir of Slytherin is too busy studying for exams like us, and they're done attacking people."

"But then the Heir of Slytherin would get away, and the same thing might happen again fifty years from now." Draco said.

The boys' attention was diverted towards the high table, where Professor McGonagall was clinking her spoon against her goblet, preparing herself to make an announcement. The Great Hall went silent.

Theodore covered his ears. "Please not another announcement about exams."

"I have good news," The transfiguration professor said, and instead of waiting for the good news, the Great Hall erupted once more in a state of whispers and conversations.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" yelled some students, huge smiles appearing over their face.

A girl at the Ravenclaw table stood up. "You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!"

"Quidditch matches are back on!" Marcus Flint roared. The Slytherin Quidditch team cheered joyfully at his side.

McGonagall clinked her glass again, and the Great Hall went silent once more. "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

This time the Great Hall erupted even louder than before. There were cheers and whistles—students were hugging each other. Tobias could see Ernie MacMillan smiling from ear to ear, no doubt happy that Justin would no longer be petrified tomorrow. To be honest, he was also happy—Hermione would be released tomorrow as well. But even though everything felt like a breakthrough moment, Tobias still felt stuck. This didn't feel like a breakthrough.

"It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!" Ron said excitedly. "Hermione'll probably have all the answers when they wake her up!"

Neville nodded. "That's if she isn't going crazy once she finds out that exams are in three days. She hasn't studied."

"On second thought," said Theodore. "Maybe they should leave her like she is until exams are over."

It was at that moment when Ginny finally gathered the courage to sit by Ron. She had heard enough—the attacks weren't going to stop. If anything, Tom may try to re-petrify the same students before the year is over. Though she finally made the decision to tell Ron, she was still nervous. This was her deepest, darkest secret.

"Ginny, are you alright?" Tobias asked. She looked up at him, her brown eyes meeting his green ones. She wondered if he knew—if he knew his grandfather's younger self was not such a nice person. As they stared at each other, she felt sad—Tobias, despite his creepy crush on her, was a nice boy, and she would hate to see him grow up to be just like Tom.

"Spit it out."

She blinked, the voice of her brother knocking her out of her thoughts. Everything came rushing back to her again. The fear. The voice. _His_ voice.

 _"He can't help you. No one can help you._ "

Tobias watched Ginny from across the table. She seemed out of it, more out of it than she had all year. She looked scared—maybe even threatened. Tobias didn't think she realized it, but she was rocking back and forth. It was obvious she was trying to avoid someone, the way she kept looking up and down the Gryffindor table. But the question was: who?

"I've got to tell you something," She mumbled, making sure to avoid eye contact with the other boys.

"What is it?" said Theodore.

She wanted to blurt everything out, but she couldn't find the words. How could she explain all that was happening to her?

Ron swallowed some more porridge. " _What?_ "

"Lay off, Weasley." Draco snapped. "Can't you see she's freaking out?"

Indeed she was. Tobias didn't know why, but he had a strange suspicion that Ginny knew something about the Chamber of Secrets. The way her face went pale when she saw his grandfather's diary that day in the library. She seemed spooked, just as she did now. He leaned forward, his voice at a whisper so only Ginny and the rest could hear him.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets?" He asked. "Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Ginny swallowed—this was it. She would tell them everything—everything that happened since that day in Diagon Alley. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself together—but before she even had the chance to speak, Percy showed up.

"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty."

As Percy spoke, it felt like all the courage she had mustered drifted away. She couldn't tell them now, not with Percy here. Percy would tell McGonagall and she would be expelled. She wanted to believe that Percy wouldn't do something like that, but she knew how serious her older brother took his position. She could hear Tom's voice echoing in her head.

 _What will your parents say when they find out you're the Heir of Slytherin?_

She stood up, hurrying away from the table before anyone could stop her. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she needed to be alone. She didn't know what to do, and by the time she came to her senses, she was already too far away from the Great Hall. Her heart started beating faster once she realized she was alone. Everyone was supposed to be at breakfast. And she was here.

 _"Well, well, well…"_

That was the last thing she heard.

"Percy!" Ron roared. "She was just about to tell us something important!"

As everyone expected Percy to respond with some prim and proper statement, he surprised them all as he choked on his tea, spraying drops across the table.

Theodore frowned in disgust. "You really should've swallowed that."

Percy ignored him. "What sort of thing?"

"Tobias asked her if she had seen anything strange," said Draco, crossing his arms. "and she was about to tell us—"

"Oh—that—that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets."

Neville furrowed his brow. "How do you know?"

Percy went red. "Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was—well, nevermind—the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather—"

Theodore smirked. "Oh I see." Percy went even redder, the boys had never seen him this uncomfortable in their life.

"What _were_ you doing, Percy?" Ron said, a teasing grin on his face.

Draco smiled as well, his eyes locked on the Gryffindor prefect. "Go on, tell us, we won't laugh."

Percy cleared his throat. "LeStrange, may you pass me the rolls, please?"

* * *

Tobias didn't believe for one second that what Ginny was about to tell them earlier had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets. Yes, it made sense in Percy's defense—the way she ran from the table the moment he showed up. But whatever Percy was referring to, it wasn't what Ginny was so torn up about. She looked scared—terrified. All year she'd been acting as if someone was out to get her.

"Mark my words," The sound of Lockhart's voice finally found a way into his thoughts. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be ' _It was Hagrid'_ Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

It was midmorning, and the second year Gryffindors and Slytherins were being escorted to History of Magic by Professor Lockhart. Lockhart made the heirs walk at the front beside him, where they had to listen to the professor blabber about what he thought he knew about the Chamber of Secrets.

And speaking of the Chamber of Secrets, the boys still hadn't made their way to Myrtle's bathroom. They were so close to the truth—they couldn't give up now. What if the petrified students came back and didn't remember who attacked them? Myrtle had the answers, and Tobias was tired of waiting.

"I agree, sir." He said politely. There was a loud thump, and Tobias turned around to find that Ron had dropped his books. Neville looked confused; Draco frowned; and Theodore looked baffled, mouthing "really?" Tobias gave him his "just trust me look" before turning back around.

"Thank you, Tobias," Lockhart responded, stopping to allow a line of Hufflepuffs to pass by. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…"

"That's right." Neville said, and Tobias was glad that he was finally catching on. "Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one corridor to go—"

Lockhart stopped, pondering Neville's words. "You know, Longbottom, I think I will. I really should go and prepare my next class—" But nobody heard the rest of his sentence as he hurried to his classroom.

"Brilliant." Draco whispered.

They walked slower, allowing the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins to walk in front of them. Pansy gave Tobias a look of suspicion, but was distracted as Daphne pulled her along to their next class. Once the rest of the class made it to the next corridor, the boys took off towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"That was brilliant, you two." Ron congratulated.

"Prepare his class." Theodore snorted. "More like curl his hair."

"STOP!"

The congratulating stopped as the boys heard a familiar voice. Ron's smile immediately dropped, and Neville could feel the blood roaring in his ears. Draco closed his eyes— _not here. Not now._

"Let me do the talking." Theodore whispered.

They all turned around, coming face to face with Professor McGonagall. Her lips were thinner than they were when the car incident happened. If anything, these were the last group of students she wanted to see lurking around the corridors alone.

"What are you doing?" She asked sternly.

"We—we—we were—" Ron began to stammer, completely forgetting Theodore's statement.

Theodore stepped up. "We were going to go see Hermione, professor." His voice was cool and natural. "We haven't seen her for ages and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, and you know, tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready."

Tobias felt his palms sweating. McGonagall stared at the five of them—Neville was on the verge of passing out, trying his best not to blurt out the truth. Ron felt like he was going to explode and Draco could feel the sick feeling of defeat rising in his stomach. But all their nervousness turned into relief once the professor spoke again.

"Of course," she said softly, her eyes watery. "Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been….I quite understand. Yes, Mister Nott, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission."

The boys then walked away, each one thinking about how they barely avoided detention.

"That," Ron said, clapping Theodore on the shoulder. "was the best story you've ever some up with."

Theodore shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a genius."

"Yeah," said Draco, "but now we actually have to _go_ to the hospital wing. McGonagall gave us all permission—if one of us doesn't show up, no doubt Madam Pomfrey will tell her."

They entered the hospital wing, barely. Madam Pomfrey let them in reluctantly, but didn't cease to remind them that talking to a petrified person was pointless. She had a point, but it was too late now.

"This is depressing." Theodore said, staring at the petrified Hermione.

"We only have to stay here for a minute." Tobias whispered. "Then we can head to Myrtle's bathroom."

Ron sighed. "I wonder if she did see the attacker, though. Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know…"

Draco wasn't listening anymore. In fact, he was sure he couldn't hear anything right now. He was looking at Hermione's right hand. He never really paid much attention to it—it just sat clenched on top of her blankets. But today, he noticed something strange. She was holding something—and when he looked closer to see what it was, he noticed it was balled up piece of paper.

He used his fingers to get the paper out. It wasn't easy—Hermione had been holding the paper tight when she was petrified.

"Draco, what are you—"

"Shh." He said quickly, still twisting and tugging at the paper. He finally got the paper out, unraveling it. It was from an old library book he knew. As he read the paper, his eyes grew wider. This was what Hermione wanted to look into when she went to the library.

"Tobias," He breathed out. "I think I know what's been attacking the students."

Theodore snatched the paper from his hands, reading the contents aloud.

" _Of many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it—_ I have never read this much in my life."

"Look what she wrote under that." Neville pointed. " _Pipes?"_

Tobias also saw the word, and all of a sudden, everything made sense.

"This is it." He breathed out, his heart swelling. "This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber is a _basilisk_ —a giant serpent."

"And the voice you've been hearing," Draco said. "only you could understand it because you can understand Parseltongue!"

Theodore raised his hand. "But if the Basilisk is supposed to have this murderous stare, why isn't anybody dead?"

Tobias looked around the room, analyzing the cases of all the petrified students. "Because no one looked it straight in the eye—Colin saw it through his camera. And Justin—he must've saw it through Nearly Headless Nick—and Hermione and the Ravenclaw prefect—"

"The mirror!" Draco blurted out. "Granger had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror—and – you know."

Ron's mouth fell open, quickly connecting the pieces of the mystery as Tobias and Draco spoke.

"But what about Mrs. Norris?" asked Neville.

Tobias closed his eyes, trying to remember that night on Halloween. He opened them—"The water. The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Mrs. Norris must've seen the reflection."

"It all fits." Theodore said, rereading the paper. "Hagrid's Roosters—the spiders—"

"But even if it is a basilisk," Ron cut in, finally saying something. "How's it been getting around the place? A giant snake… Someone would've seen…"

Neville blinked. "The pipes….you guys, it's been using the plumbing."

Theodore frowned. "Ew."

"That would explain why I've been hearing the voice inside the walls." Tobias nodded.

"If it's using the plumbing," Draco said slowly. "Then…the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. What if it's a bathroom?"

Ron gasped. "What if it's in _Moaning Myrtle's bathroom_?"

The excitement was burning through their veins as they continued to solve the mystery, but they needed to stay quiet—Madam Pomfrey would surely make them leave if they spoke too loudly.

"This means I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school." Tobias said. "The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk."

Theodore shivered. "I'm not really comfortable with that. Remember what Hermione said? They think it's a girl. A girl that speaks parseltongue?" He shivered again. "Ruthless."

"Should we tell someone?" Neville asked. "Maybe Snape? He helped us last time."

"We can try." Tobias answered. "It's almost break, meaning all the teachers will be in the staffroom. We can meet him there."

They all got up, saying their goodbyes to Hermione and running out of the hospital wing. They went straight to the staffroom, not wanting to be caught out in the corridors again. Though the room was filled with wooden chairs, the boys found themselves unable to sit down.

Ten minutes passed and the bell for the break never rang.

"Something's wrong." Draco said.

A moment later the voice of Professor McGonagall was echoing through the corridors.

" _All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."_

Neville went pale. "What do we do now?"

Ron began pacing around the room again. "Not another attack. _Not now._ "

"Should we leave? Go back to our dorms?"

"No." Tobias said, looking around the room. He spotted a wardrobe to the left of the room. "Two of you can hide in there. The other three will get under the invisibility cloak."

"You carry that thing around in your pocket?" Theodore gaped.

Tobias didn't answer as he threw the cloak over him, Theodore, and Neville while Draco and Ron hid in the wardrobe. They could hear the footsteps of people returning to their houses—Tobias felt Neville jump slightly when the door to the staffroom burst opened. They all watched as the teachers filled the room—some looked confused, others looked scared. Professor McGonagall came in last, a distraught look upon her face.

"It has happened," She said as the staffroom went quiet. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Tobias went rigid. Someone had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets. It was going to happen again—a student was going to die at the eyes of the Basilisk. They would have no choice but to look the monster in the eye.

"How can you be sure?" Snape asked. They could tell he was furious.

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message." McGonagall answered. "Right underneath the first one. _'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"_

"Who is it?" Madam Hooch asked, now sitting down—too weak to continue standing. "Which student?"

There was a bitter silence, and then she said it. "Ginny Weasley."

Draco felt Ron slide on the ground beside him—Draco had gone rigid himself. Tobias felt his heart stop. _Ginny._ Theodore was silent, and Neville looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow. This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…"

But before she could finish, the door to the staffroom opened again. While everyone hoped it would be Dumbledore, they all frowned as the saw a beaming Lockhart standing in the doorway.

"So sorry—" He said, looking around. "-what have I missed?"

Snape stepped forward. "Just the man. The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Tobias watched as the man went pale.

"That's right, Gilderoy," Professor Sprout said. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

Lockhart smiled weakly, spluttering. "I—well, I—"

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall—"

Snape stepped closer, his robes swishing. "I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested. Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I—I really never—you may have misunderstood—"

"We'll leave it to you then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Lockhart, still pale, looked around the room, his eyes desperately asking for someone to help him out. But no help came. He looked terrified—his lip was trembling and no longer looked like the star- struck Lockhart he had been all this year.

"V-very well," He said, clearing his throat. "I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready."

He then turned around, and left the room.

"Right," Professor McGonagall spoke, her voice stern and commanding. "that's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories?"

All the teachers nodded, leaving the staffroom one by one. Once the door was closed again, the five boys came back into view.

"Well at least we know where she is." Theodore said.

Everyone glared at him.

* * *

"Tom, are you _sure_?"

Tom looked at the diary. It looked exactly like the one at Hogwarts, but this one wasn't a horcrux. Slughorn had discovered that one could communicate with a horcrux if they found a similar form of the original. Tom would contact his younger self and destroy him from inside his conscious. He would then be able to entrap him inside this diary, preventing him from turning human.

"Positive." He said, laying his palm on the front of the diary. "What's the spell?"

Slughorn swallowed. " _Horcrux revelare."_

Tom Riddle closed his eyes. " _Horcrux revelare._ "

As the spell left his lips, he felt himself being pulled into the diary. He was moving fast, as if he was being transported by portkey. His body felt like it was travelling through a narrow tube. As his movements began to slow down, he saw his destination. His heart fell as he was thrown down on his knees. He looked up at the building—clenching his fists at the sight of it.

 **Wool's Orphanage**

Why did his younger self bring him here? Another question would be: Why was his younger self here? Is this where he had been trapped when the horcrux was made?

Lord Voldemort looked down as his hands, expecting them to be damaged from the fall, but realized his hands had returned to their bony state. He felt his face, pausing once he noticed that his disguise had worn off. He was wearing his usual black robes, instead of the grey suit he had been wearing in his study. There was a creaking noise, and the door to the orphanage opened, revealing a dark hallway.

Lord Voldemort stood up, walking slowly to the orphanage. He pushed the door slightly, stopping in the doorway as a flight of wooden stairs appeared before him. He reached for his wand, walking up the steps. He knew where he was going—he knew where _he_ was hiding. But why here? Out of all places.

He stopped at the end of the stairway—the door to his old room was cracked opened. The chipped words of "Tom M. Riddle" still painted on the door. He took a step forward, but stopped once he heard a voice.

"You're going to Hogwarts, Tom." He heard himself say. It was his younger self. He walked forward, his wand steady in his hand.

"You knew you were different." The voice echoed through the building. "And now you know why. You're a wizard, Tom. A _wizard._ "

Lord Voldemort recognized those words. The same words he said when he was child—the day when Dumbledore came and told him he was a wizard. The day he realized he was more than what everyone thought he was. The day when everything made sense. He walked closer to the door, pushing it open to find his sixteen- year old self standing in front of the window, his hands behind his back. Voldemort stood in the doorway—the younger Tom must've felt his presence because he turned around, a sinister smirk on his face.

"And you're going to be the _greatest, most powerful_ wizard in the world." There was a slight pause, and Lord Voldemort could see the light radiating in his eyes. It was _his_ eyes. But before he could do anything, the young Tom riddle raised his wand. " _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Tom gasped, snatching his hand away from the diary. He was sweating—his eyes darting around the room, finding himself back inside his study. He was now wearing his grey suit and his skin had returned to its light color—his fingers now full and smooth as before.

"What happened?!" Slughorn asked, looking alarmed. "Did it work?"

Tom frowned at the diary. "No. He's too strong."

"Does that mean—"

"It's happening." The other man said firmly. "He's becoming human."

* * *

Ginny blinked a few times, her eyes barely able to open. The ground was cold—surely she wasn't in Myrtle's bathroom. The room felt bigger than a bathroom. Wherever she was, she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore. She tried to move, but she couldn't. She felt weak—she was too tired to do anything. It had happened again, and for some reason, Ginny felt like this was the last time it would happen.

She heard the heels of his shoes clicking towards her. There was nothing she could do. She should see the blur of his Hogwarts robes coming closer.

"Well, Ginny," He said, his voice venomously teasing. "This is not how I wanted our friendship to end."

He dropped down, his face meeting hers.

"But you know what they say." He laughed. "I would tell you, but since you're dying anyway, I won't waste my breath."

She tried to fight it, but the stronger he got—the weaker she felt. She felt herself falling out of consciousness once more. This was the end. Who would come save her? Did someone even know where she was?

"Oh don't fall asleep on me, Ginevra," His voice was becoming fainter. "You're going to miss the show…"

But it was already too late. She was gone.

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. I'm currently back in school, so the chapters will be spaced out from now on. I am trying my best to finish Chamber of Secrets. So bear with me! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	34. COS18: Prophecies Fulfilled

There's a fire starting in my heart

Reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark

Finally I can see you crystal clear

Go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay you shit bare

Rolling in the Deep x Adele

Chapter 34: Prophecies Fulfilled

The Slytherin common room was silent as Professor McGonagall left. She had just delivered the news that Hogwarts would be closing, and that the students would be sent home tomorrow morning. Pansy could see that some of the Slytherins were happy—there were small whispers of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. The Slytherin girl could see that there were a few students who weren't happy about the closing—including herself—but chose to hide it as their friends spoke of other schools.

"They said the girl was walking alone when she was taken." Tracey said softly. "Stupid Gryffindor."

Pansy blinked. "How do you know it was a Gryffindor?"

"Did you not see McGonagall's face? She was scared—maybe even terrified."

Pansy nodded, having noticed the headmaster's face when she delivered the news. She knew that face—she had seen it on her mother several times. Stony and cold, but deep inside angry and distraught, barely able to hold on.

The two girls were sitting on the couch when Daphne slumped down between them, her arms crossed and her lip out. Tracey and Pansy waited for the girl to tell them what was wrong, but she only kept huffing. Pansy rolled her eyes—seeing that Daphne actually wanted them to ask her what was wrong.

"What is it this time, Daph?"

The girl uncrossed her arms before huffing and crossing them again. "I can't find Theodore anywhere. I wanted to ask him what school he was transferring to so I could tell mother."

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere." Said Tracey. "This place isn't that big."

Pansy didn't respond. To be honest, she hadn't seen Theodore either. Or Draco. Or Tobias. They weren't in History of Magic and with all the confusion that happened earlier today, there was no way to find him. Her stomach twisted a little, a thought popping into her head about where her betrothed could be—but she hoped that wasn't it.

Daphne nodded, finally uncrossing her arms again. "You're right. He's probably just packing his things—since we're leaving tomorrow." A smile then came across her face, a smile that Pansy and Tracey knew to be her "gossip face."

"But did you all hear?" She whispered quietly, trying hard not to squeal. "The girl that was taken into the Chamber of Secrets? _Ginny Weasley._ "

Tracey leaned forward. "You're barking?"

"It's true. Heard it from the Slytherin prefects."

Pansy felt her stomach twist even tighter. _Ginny Weasley?_! Out of all the people LeStrange could have a crush on—it had to be her. Of course she would get herself kidnapped by the monster—and of course, LeStrange would find a way to save her. It was his character—to go near the danger instead of minding his damn business.

"Out of all people." She growled.

"What?" Daphne asked.

Pansy shook her head. "Nothing." She then got up. "I need to go speak to Snape."

"Snape?" Tracey raised a brow. "For what?"

"Want to send a letter to my father. I'll be back in a minute."

Tracey stared at her for a bit, but soon nodded, returning to her conversation with Daphne. Tracey always knew when Pansy was lying, but never confronted her about it. That was something Pansy liked about the girl. But it was true—she was lying. She didn't need to send a letter to her father. She was going to tell Snape about Ginny, and that LeStrange was going after her. Last year he had killed a professor—Salazar only knew what would happen this time.

* * *

Tobias didn't know how long they stayed in the staffroom, but from the way the sky was changing from the cheery light blue to the now blood orange—he knew it was about to be dark. The five hadn't said anything since the news stating that Ginny was the one who had been taken into the chamber. Tobias didn't know what to say—Ron looked horrible. They had all thought he would become red with anger, demanding that they go find his sister right away, but instead he said nothing. He only sat there, his face paler that the Hogwarts ghosts. Tobias knew how he was feeling—it was the same way he felt last year when his grandfather was dying. They had all the clues, all the knowledge, but yet everything seemed to be moving in slow motion—so many emotions to process.

"She knew something," Ron finally said, taking a deep breath. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all. She'd found something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was—" He rubbed his eyes. "I mean she was a pureblood. There can't be any other reason."

None of the boys said anything, but Tobias felt in his gut that Ron was right. He never realized it before until he saw her at the table. The way she reacted to the diary—the way she'd been acting ever since the attacks started.

"I think she did, too." Draco said, surprising Tobias. "That day in the library, before Parkinson came to tells us that our room was trashed—I don't know if you all noticed, but she freaked when she saw Tobias's grandfather's diary."

Theodore nodded. "I noticed that, too. But it never clicked until now."

"You think the young Tom Riddle told her something?" asked Neville. "Something the Heir of Slytherin didn't want her to know?"

Ron gulped, looking towards Tobias. "D'you think there's any chance at all she's not—you know—"

But Tobias didn't have an answer. He was just as worried about her as Ron was. What did his grandfather's younger self tell her that got her taken into the chamber? Why hadn't Ginny said anything sooner—he could've helped her. They all could've helped her.

"You know what?" Theodore said, jumping off the table he was sitting on. "I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know."

Draco nodded. "He may be an idiot, but he's going to try to get into the Chamber. We can tell where we think it is, and tell him what's inside."

Having no other plan, Tobias nodded. They left the staffroom, quickly and quietly making their way to Lockhart's office. It was now getting darker—and the halls were completely empty. Everyone was in their common rooms, saying goodbye to their friends—Hogwarts would be closed tomorrow. Everyone would be going home.

As they approached the professor's office, they could hear many noises coming from the other side of the door. There were sounds of drawers closing and trunks locking—along with hurried footsteps. Ignoring the noise, Tobias knocked and everything went silent. The door then opened, but only a little, revealing the eye of Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh—Mister LeStrange, Weasley, Nott, Longbottom, _Malfoy_." He opened the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment—if you would be quick—"

"We have some information for you, professor." Said Tobias. "Some information we believe will help you.

Lockhart looked the same as he did in the staff room. He looked nervous, uncomfortable—Tobias assumed he was nervous about heading into the Chamber of Secrets. Nobody but them knew what was down there.

"Er—well—it's not terribly—I mean—well—all right—"

The door then opened completely and the five boys stepped inside. Tobias raised an eyebrow when he noticed that his room was completely stripped. There were trunks everywhere—many filled with robes and books. His many photographs were removed from the wall, all them sitting in a box on his desk.

Theodore frowned. "Going somewhere?"

"Er, well, yes," The professor responded. "Urgent call—unavoidable—got to go—"

"He's bailing!" Draco growled.

Ron went red. "What about my sister?!"

"Well, as to that—most unfortunate—no one regrets more than I—"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher!" Neville said. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well—I must say—when I took the job—" Lockhart said quickly, shoving more books into his trunks. "nothing in the job description—didn't expect—"

Theodore threw his hands up in the air. "I knew it! We're doomed!"

Draco balled his fists. "He's a phony. All that stuff he did in his books—"

Lockhart grabbed some socks. "Books can be misleading."

"You _wrote_ them!" Ron roared.

"My dear boy," Lockhart said, slamming his trunk shut—a frown now appearing over his face. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover—"

"-Would've looked better than you—" said Theo.

"- No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairy chin. I mean, come on—"

Tobias stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?"

He couldn't believe it. Ginny was trapped in the Chamber of Secrets and here was Lockhart—not even attempting to save her.

"Tobias, Tobias," The professor was now becoming impatient, seeing as now all his belongings were packed. "it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Mister LeStrange. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog."

Theodore shook his head. "You are a major disappointment."

Lockhart ignored this comment as he locked his trunks, finalizing his packing.

"Let's see," He said. Tobias could see him reaching for his wand—his gut telling him that Lockhart was about to try something. The Slytherin reached into his robes, watching through his peripheral as Draco and Theo did the same.

"I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He whipped out his wand, but it was too late.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Tobias yelled, and the professor was blasted backwards. The boys watched as his wand flew out of his hand, landing in Neville's—their eyes were now focused on the whimpering Lockhart before them.

"Did you really think we would fall for that?" Theo asked. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

"My—my wand—" The man spluttered. He then frowned, his voice becoming stern. "I am your professor. And I command you to give me my wand back!"

Draco scoffed. "So you can erase our memories?"

"I can't have you all blabbing my secrets all over the place! I'd never sell another book—LeStrange tell them. See reason."

Tobias stared long and hard at the professor. He had had enough of Lockhart and his antics all this year. He turned to look at Neville, and for a moment, the other four boys thought he was about to agree with Lockhart.

"Toss it, Neville." He simply said, and Neville threw the wand out the window.

Draco stepped up, his wand at Lockhart's neck. "Now—"

"What d'you want me to do?" Lockhart interrupted, his voice weak. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"That's not surprising." Theodore grumbled, kicking one of Lockhart's trunk.

"Well today's your lucky day," Ron said darkly. "We think _we_ know where it is. _And_ what's inside it. Let's go."

Draco forced the professor to his feet. "You heard him. Get up."

They marched out of Lockhart's office. Tobias and Neville at front; Lockhart in the middle; Draco, Ron, and Theodore in the back—their wands pressed against the professors back. They continued down the dark corridors until they reached their destination.

Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

As they got closer, they could hear a voice coming out of the bathroom. Tobias stopped in his tracks, holding his hand out to stop the rest.

"Why are we stopping?" Theodore asked.

Tobias waved his hand. "Shh." There was a silence, and then a voice. "Did you hear that?"

"It's coming from the bathroom." Draco frowned. "Do you think—"

"No." Tobias shook his head. "It's a boy's voice."

Neville nodded. "Familiar too."

Tobias looked back at the rest, his eyes locking on Lockhart's. "You first."

But before the professor could even refute, he was being pushed into the bathroom. The boys followed behind him, stopping in their tracks once they found who was lurking around Myrtle's bathroom.

"Where is it? _Where is it_?" groaned a frustrated Blaise Zabini. He was walking around the bathroom, looking under every sink, checking every stall.

"This cannot be happening." Draco said through gritted teeth.

Ron pushed forward, knocking over the tan Slytherin, his wand now at his chest. "What are _you_ doing here?! Where's my sister?!" He roared.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. Of course they would come after her—he was surprised they hadn't come sooner.

"Haven't you heard, Weasley?" He spat back. "She's been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets!"

"Why are you here?" Tobias asked.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious? Hogwarts is closing!" He lied, not caring nonetheless. "If the Weasley girl is saved, we will all be able to stay."

Ron pushed the wand further into his chest, wrinkling his crisp white oxford. "Since when have you cared about Hogwarts?"

Blaise smacked his wand away. "Does it matter? Why are you five here anyway? And why is this pathetic excuse for a teacher here?"

"What's all this noise?!" They heard a voice hiss. The feud stopped as Moaning Myrtle floated out of her stall, sitting on top of the windowsill. "Oh, it's you. What do you want this time?"

Blaise tried to stand up, but Draco beat him to it.

"Move and that'll be the last thing you do." He threatened. Blaise narrowed his eyes again but stayed sitting upon the ground.

Tobias stepped up to the ghost. "To ask how you died."

At the question, Myrtle's whole demeanor changed. She looked as if she was asked how she won the front cover of Witch's Weekly.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," She said with a smile. "It happened right in here. I died in that very stall." She pointed to her usual stall. "Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language—"

"Parseltongue." Neville whispered to Tobias. The boy nodded.

"—I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then—"

"You died." Theodore finished her sentence. The ghost squealed in agreement.

Tobias frowned. "But how?"

"No idea," Myrtle frowned. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She smiled dreamily at Tobias. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?"

Myrtle squinted her eyes, trying to find the spot. "Somewhere there," She pointed to the sink in front of her toilet. It was the sink Zabini was looking around when they came in.

Draco looked down at the boy. He prodded his wand into the tan Slytherin's back. "What did you find?"

"Nothing." The boy hissed. "There's nothing here."

"Check it." Tobias commanded Zabini.

"You don't honestly think—"

Theodore cracked his knuckles. "Yes, yes, we do."

Blaise stood up, dusting himself off. He looked around the sink, Draco standing over him with his wand at ready. At first, Tobias believed that there really wasn't anything to find—it looked like an ordinary sink. They watched him examine the whole sink, pipes and all. And then he found it.

"I found something." He said. "Something that may interest you specifically, LeStrange."

Tobias walked over, bending down to look at what Zabini was pointing to. It was a tiny snake scratched into the side of one of the taps.

"That tap's never worked," Myrtle said.

Tobias rubbed his fingers over the snake. It clicked.

"This is it." He whispered. "This is the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Tobias," Ron said. "Say something. Something in Parseltongue."

Draco nodded. "Tell it to open."

Tobias closed his eyes, just as Nagini had instructed him during their training sessions. He focused on the word he was trying to say.

 _"Open."_

Beside of the strange hissing he heard, the sink began to glow a bright white and began to spin rapidly. Before the boys could even comprehend what was happening, the sink began to move, sinking right out of sight, exposing a large pipe.

"Woah," Theodore breathed out. "You could fit a whole body down there."

"I think that's the point." Ron responded.

Tobias took off his cloak, throwing it aside. He looked at the rest. "I'm going down there."

He had expected his friends to disagree, to try to find a reason to make him stay, but instead they began to remove their cloaks as well—Theodore and Ron rolling up their sleeves.

Draco smirked. "I hope you didn't think you were going alone."

"Who would pass up the chance to see the Chamber of Secrets?" Theodore smiled.

There was a pause, and Tobias was lucky to have these five as his friends. He was brought back to the current situation when Lockhart cleared his throat.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me. I'll just—"

"Nonsense." Theodore waved his hand dismissively. "You're going first."

"And so are you." Draco growled, his eyes narrowed at Zabini.

"Boys," Lockhart said, his voice now hoarse and feeble. "Boys what good will it do?"

Blaise whipped out his wand, but Draco snatched it out of his hand before he could use it. He forced the Slytherin to stand beside Lockhart.

"Better you two than us." Draco snarled.

But Lockhart continued to protest. "I don't really think—the monster—" But his sentence was interrupted as Theodore and Ron pushed him into the pipe. They walked over to Blaise next, but the boy held up a hand to stop them.

"I can handle myself." He said promptly, removing his cloak. He then slid down the pipe.

Tobias then looked at the rest. "You ready?"

Theodore laughed. "As ready as we'll ever be—you know—going after a big murderous snake."

Tobias nodded, his heart thumping. He lowered himself down into the pipe, sliding down into the darkness.

* * *

"This is preposterous, Dumbledore!" Fudge exclaimed. "I just can't let you waltz back in the school—just because of these… _allegations._ "

He threw down the red portfolio from Governor Mannery's office. Dumbledore stared at him, hardly wanting to believe that Fudge was so naïve.

"Cornelius." He said calmly, though his eyes were raging with fire. "This information cannot be forged. Malfoy threatened their families."

"Say what you will Dumbledore. But I trust Malfoy."

Dumbledore blinked. "But to what degree? You know he's still in Lord Voldemort's—"

" _Don't say his name._ " The Minister hissed.

"Lucius is still in his ranks. He wanted me out of that school—"

Fudge scoffed. "He wants what's best for Hogwarts. And now that we're having this conversation, Albus, I feel the need to tell you that I respect his decision. Where is your need to protect the students?"

"Where is yours?" Dumbledore shot back. "A girl has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Where is Lucius now?"

The Minister froze. Dumbledore assumed he wasn't aware of the news. That Ginny Weasley, the daughter of one of his prized workers, had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.

"When did this happen?" He said firmly.

"Earlier this evening." Dumbledore answered.

Fudge shook his head. "That—that doesn't make sense. We caught Hagrid—the attacks should have stopped."

"She will die before morning. Hogwarts will be closing. He will have succeeded once again."

"But how is he doing it?" Fudge whispered. "He isn't allowed in the school."

Dumbledore put his hands together. "My assumption is Lucius. The order believes—"

" _The Order_?" Fudge sputtered once again. "You all have been operating under Ministry clearance again? You could be arrested-"

"Hardly the issue." Dumbledore interrupted. "The Order and I believe he is performing his task for Lord Voldemort through one of the female students at Hogwarts."

"And Hagrid? What about him? What about _you_?"

Dumbledore sighed. "A means to distract the public from the real culprit, I presume."

The Minster took a deep breath, hanging his head over his desk while his fingers ran through his hair.

"Cornelius, you and I both know Lucius blackmailed the rest of the school governors. None of them would've signed my suspension—especially in a crisis like this."

There was silence and Dumbledore felt like he finally had gotten through to Fudge. The man looked up, a guilty and sullen look on his face.

"Do you have a witness—one of the governors—to testify to the Wizengamot?"

"Willis Mannery. He also got a few of the other governors to testify as well."

Fudge nodded. He then pulled out a sheet of parchment—Dumbledore recognized it as his Order of Suspension. The Minster took it into his hands, ripping the parchment in half.

"You will return to the school tomorrow morning." He said. "I will have the Wizengamot look over the case. My Aurors also will be entering Hogwarts tonight, to make sure the missing girl is found."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "No need for that, Minister. I have some of my own forces looking into that."

"The Order?" Fudge said with a raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore smiled, thinking of the five boys that he knew would be lingering in the Chamber as they spoke. A lot was being held in the lives of five twelve-year-old boys, but he knew they would do the right thing. He had faith in them.

"Something like that."

* * *

He had the audacity. He had the audacity to step inside Hogwarts. To floo inside Dumbledore's office. And for what? To ask for her help? All those lives—all those people he murdered—and he was coming to _her_ for help. He was the last person she wanted to see tonight. And if she wasn't so worried about the Ginny Weasley being trapped in the Chamber of Secrets, she would've hexed him on the spot.

"Get out."

The man smiled. "I've missed you, my love. How long has it been? Ten? Twenty years?"

"You aren't allowed here." She growled. "You know that."

Tom Riddle chuckled. "Dumbledore's _gone_ , Minerva. We don't have to follow his rules anymore."

She whipped out her wand. "I should kill you. I should kill you where you stand!"

"But you won't." He said calmly, his voice as cold as ice. "Because you know I can help you. You know that without me—all of this will continue and the girl will die."

Professor McGonagall kept her wand up. "How did you even get here? The LeStrange Manor isn't connected to Hogwarts."

"Then perhaps I used another floo network." He shrugged.

"Why are you here? What do you want? Tobias is fine."

"The boy is the least of my worries." He said smoothly. "I have an issue- inside the school- that I need your help to handle."

"And why should I help you?" She snarled. "All the people you killed, all the things you've done, Lily, _James_ —"

"Still dwelling on the past Minerva?" He chuckled darkly. "It seems we both have that in common. But mine, however, is more…realistic."

"Meaning?"

Tom Riddle adjusted his suit. "The girl in the chamber. She will die tonight. But not because the monster will rip the flesh from her body, but because I will do it myself."

He walked around the room. "The young Ginny Weasley has been writing in a diary during her first year at Hogwarts. A diary that holds the spirit of my sixteen- year- old self. Tonight, he will take her soul and then he will become human."

He turned around, noticing that McGonagall's face had gone pale. Did she believe him? Of course she did, nobody questioned Lord Voldemort. He walked around the room some more, his hands rubbing against the mahogany bookcase—breathing in the Hogwarts smell he always cherished. He balled his hand—the smell that had been taken from him.

"I've grown since my years at Hogwarts. But the boy—the younger me—he is dangerous, reckless. I cannot control him, which makes him even more of a threat. I've tried to destroy him from his conscious, but he is too strong."

He looked her straight in the eye, his eyes unemotional and sinister. Only a few dared to stare him in the eye—McGonagall was one of them. He always admired her strength, admired _her_ actually. But that was a story he wasn't willing to finish. But he needed her now.

"I need to enter the chamber. Destroy him once and for all."

She remained silent. Tom knew she was pondering her thoughts, as she always did.

"If I destroy him, the girl will live." She could see that look in his eyes, that sincere look she saw in him those many years before- before he became what he was now. "A life for a life, Minerva."

"Is that what you said when you killed my husband?" She sniffed.

Tom smiled again. "What's mine is mine. It would be wise to remember that."

"I won't allow you to go into the chamber." She said bluntly, ignoring the rage in the pit of her stomach as he said these words. The sick feeling she felt when he called her "mine."

He chuckled. "And here I thought you were one of the good guys."

"One of my staff," She continued. "will enter the chamber—I will bring him here—and you will tell him all he needs to know about getting inside and how to defeat the monster. Is that understood?"

His nostrils were flared, but he knew he could not disagree with her. "Crystal."

* * *

Tobias landed on the damp floor as the pipe came to an end. He stood up, taking in the scenery of his surroundings as the rest of his friends came down the pipe. It looked as if he had landed in a large tunnel—a tunnel large enough to stand in. He noticed Lockhart and Zabini, both pale as a ghost and covered in brown slime.

"We must be miles under the school," Draco said, stepping beside him. "Under the lake, probably."

" _Lumos._ " Tobias muttered, and the seven set off into the darkness ahead. There was complete silence except for the splashing of water as they walked down the damp tunnel. All they could see was the darkness, along with their shadows against the tunnel wall.

"This place is disgusting." Blaise frowned, his nose twitching from the smell.

"Quit complaining." Neville growled.

Tobias walked slowly, keeping his eyes out for the basilisk. "Remember, any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."

The rest nodded, Theodore holding his hands over his eyes, making tiny peepholes through his fingers. They kept walking. There was a loud _crunch_ and everyone stopped.

"What was that?" Lockhart whispered.

Tobias lowered his wand down, and everyone saw the source of the noise—a rat's skull. Tobias closed his eyes, images of Ginny popping into his head. Blaise frowned—he had no time for this. The quicker they got to Ginny, the quicker they could save her. They moved along, making their way around a bend in the tunnel.

"Tobias—" Ron breathed out. "There's something up there—"

They all froze, capturing the scene as well. Something big and curved was lying across the tunnel. It didn't move. Nobody said anything.

"Maybe it's asleep?" Theodore asked, his hands still covering his eyes. Tobias walked closer, his wand in the air. He moved very slowly, trying his best not to wake up whatever it was.

"Be careful, Tobias." Theodore whispered. "Be careful—"

"Theo." The boy growled.

As he walked closer, his wand came into contact with a giant snake skin. It was a bright green—a poisonous green. It lied crumpled in a corner—it was at least twenty feet long.

"Blimey." Ron said weakly.

Blaise took a step back. "What is that?"

"Basilisk skin." Draco responded.

"And that is?"

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Honestly, why is he even here?"

"The monster that took Ginny into the chamber is a Basilisk." Said Tobias. "This skin looks recently shed. It's down here somewhere."

The boys went silent again. Neville jumped when there was a sudden thud behind them. Lockhart had fallen on his knees, weak from the sight of the Basilisk skin.

"Get up." Ron spat, his wand aimed at the professor.

Lockhart gulped, getting up slowly. He then lunged at Ron, knocking him to the ground. He grabbed Ron's wand, finally standing back up—the wand aimed at the six boys.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" He said with a laugh. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you six _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body—say goodbye to your memories!" He held the wand high in the air.

Theodore closed his eyes. "This has to be the worst day of my life."

"Professor no!" Tobias shouted, but it was too late.

" _Obliviate!_ "

There was a loud bang—as if a bomb had exploded. The ceiling began to fall apart, large pieces of it falling down to the ground. Tobias grabbed Neville and pulled him out of the way. Once the rumbling stopped, he realized that there was now a barrier of broken rocks in front of him. He and Neville were now alone.

"Draco!" He yelled. "Are you all alright?"

"We're fine!" Draco yelled from the other side. "Theo and Ron are fine as well. Zabini's leg looks like it's broken and Lockhart—well, he got blasted by the wand."

"Where are we?" The dizzy voice of Lockhart came. "Who are you all?"

Tobias heard the voice of Theodore next. "He obliviated himself."

"Obliva-whatnow?"

Tobias took a step back, looking at the massive wall that was now in between him and Neville and the rest of his friends. He knew a spell that could break through the barrier, but he couldn't risk causing the whole tunnel to cave in. He remembered the last time something like this happened—someone died.

"Wait there!" He called out. "Me and Neville are going to go on. If we're not back in an hour—"

"Don't say things like that." Draco growled. "You're going to find Ginny—you're coming back. We'll try and shift some of this rock, for when you all get back."

There was a pause.

"I'll be back." Tobias said. He then turned to Neville. "It's just me and you now. You don't have to come—"

Neville shook his head. "I'm coming. Don't try to stop me."

The two boys then continued along the path of the chipped off snake skin. They could hear Draco, Ron, and Theodore moving some of the rocks—but as they moved on, the sounds became fainter and fainter. Tobias could feel the blood pounding in his veins. He could see Neville's hands shaking, and he couldn't help the similar shaking in his legs as he walked. They came around another bend, but instead of coming in contact with another snake skin, a solid wall was waiting for them at the end.

On the wall was two carved snakes—they were entwined with each other and they each had a set of glittering emerald eyes. They stopped in front of the wall—gathering their strengths. Tobias focused on the eyes of the snakes.

" _Open._ " He hissed.

* * *

Severus Snape had heard a lot of crazy stories in his life. But this had to be the craziest of them all.

"Miss Parkinson," He said slowly. "You do understand you could lose house points for lying to a professor?"

Pansy Parkinson sat in the chair across from his desk. She only came in a few minutes ago, but in the span of those few minutes, she had told a whole book.

"I'm not lying, Professor." She said. "LeStrange has gone down to the Chamber of Secrets—to save the Weasley girl."

He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that yet again, Tobias LeStrange had gotten himself in trouble once more. And of all things to meddle in—he meddles in the investigation of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Where is your proof?" He asked, trying to convince himself that once again, this wasn't happening.

"He isn't in the common room. I honestly haven't seen him all day. Or Malfoy. Or Theodore."

Snape raised a brow. "And your guess is that they went to look for the Chamber of Secrets?"

Pansy groaned, becoming frustrated with Snape. "Tobias has a crush on Ginny Weasley, okay? I know him—he went down there to get her! You have to believe me!"

Snape went silent at her statement. This was happening again. He wouldn't question how LeStrange and the rest found out about Ginny Weasley being taken down into the Chamber of Secrets—they always had a knack for finding out information that didn't pertain them. As he stared at the Slytherin girl, there was another knock on his office door.

"Come in."

The door opened and Adrian Pucey, the Slytherin prefect, walked inside.

"Excuse me, sir." He said quickly. "But Professor McGonagall wants to see you. She says it's urgent."

Snape closed his eyes, sighing again. It was happening— _again._ He got up from his desk, grabbing his black cloak.

"Thank you, Mister Pucey." He said. "Please escort Miss Parkinson back to the Slytherin common room."

The girl stood up, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. "But what about Tobias?!"

"As always, Miss Parkinson," Snape sneered. "that is none of your concern."

He walked down the corridor to Dumbledore's office. As he got closer, he felt a slight stinging in his left forearm. He felt his stomach clench. _No._ He couldn't be here. He wasn't allowed here. But yet Snape could feel him here. He could always feel his presence, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. It was never a good day when he was involved—and given recent events—today had just gotten worse.

The staircase was waiting for him when he arrived and he wasted no time to travel up them. The Dark Lord was waiting for him, so he must be prompt. But he must also make the decisions in McGonagall's favor—in _Dumbledore's_ favor.

He pushed through the double doors to find Tom Riddle standing on one side of the office and McGonagall standing on the other. He could feel the awkward tension as he stepped inside—how long had it been since they saw each other? Ten? Twenty years? He wanted to snort as he saw the look on Minerva's face—it seemed as they would always find a way back to each other.

"Mister Riddle." He said promptly. "To what may I owe the pleasure?"

"Professor Snape." Tom nodded curtly. He then looked at witch across the room. "Would you like to tell him or shall I?"

The witch ignored him, making her way to her desk. "I have found a way to rescue Miss Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets. With Mister Riddle's help, we can safely extract her from the monster's clutches and close the chamber for good."

Snape frowned. "And what does this have to do with me?"

Tom chuckled. "Yes, Minerva, what does this have to do with him? Seeing as this is _my_ problem."

She ignored him again. "You will enter the Chamber of Secrets and rescue the girl. You are the obvious choice, Severus, seeing as you're more proficient in dark magic than most of us."

"And how will I get inside?" Snape asked, still unsure of the plan. "Only the real Heir of Slytherin can enter the chamber."

"Which I am." Said Tom Riddle. "But given past events, I'm not to be trusted."

McGonagall snapped her head towards him. "You set a monster loose on _innocent_ children!" she hissed.

This time, he ignored her. "There isn't much for you to know. There is only one term in parseltongue that I will need to teach you. The rest is up to you. I am right to assume you can handle it?"

Snape raised a brow. "And what is it that I'll be _handling_?"

"Just a little pest of mine." Said Tom. "And the monster, of course."

"And the parseltongue? That takes months to perfect, even just for one word."

Tom smirked. "Which is why we are going to skip the lesson." He put his wand to his temple, extracting a red slivery strand from his head. He walked towards Snape, gracefully setting his wand upon his forehead, watching as the slivery strand slithered into his brain.

"Now, repeat after me." He said, lowering his wand. " _Open._ "

" _Open._ " Snape responded, amazed at how easily he said the word.

Professor McGonagall watched, also amazed by Tom's magic. "Is he ready?"

Tom nodded. "The entrance is in the bathroom—where the Warren girl died. You will find the entrance across from her stall. Say the word and it will open for you—same for the solid wall at the end of the tunnel. Good Luck, Severus."

And with that he turned around, walking towards the fireplace on the far side of the room. He turned around once more, his eyes locking on Professor McGonagall.

"Keep her safe for me." He said, faintly smiling as the witch's eyes narrowed on him. He grabbed some floo powder, throwing it down as he said his destination. There was a band of wild green flames, and he was gone.

"Flattering." Snape sneered. "Whatever did you see in him?"

McGonagall glared at him. "We have a student to save, Severus. There is no time to folly around."

"Clearly."

* * *

Tobias and Neville found themselves at the end of a dimly lit chamber. This was it. The Chamber of Secrets. The stone pillars were wrapped in carved snakes, each one entwined. The chamber was lit with a faint green light, barely lighting the marble floor leading to the other side. Tobias looked around—his eyes searching for Ginny—and the basilisk.

He nudged Neville, gesturing for him to pull out his wand. They walked slowly and carefully through the pillars. No matter how hard they tried, their footsteps echoed off the chamber walls. Neville tried to control his breathing, but it felt as if the snakes' eyes were following him. He could've sworn he saw one move.

As they reached the last set of pillars, a statue came into view. The statue was as tall as the chamber itself, standing against the wall. Tobias looked up, capturing the full view of the statue. The man looked ancient—he had a long beard that reached the end of his robes. He recognized the face. Salazar Slytherin.

"Tobias, look." Neville whispered, and Tobias's attention was redirected to another figure lying on the ground. He felt his heart leap as he noticed those black robes and red hair. _Ginny._

He ran towards her, dropping to his knees as he rolled her body over. Her eyes were closed.

"Ginny." He said. "Ginny—wake up—don't be dead—please don't be dead—" He set his wand down, pulling her closer. Her face was white, almost lifeless. Her body was cold, but her eyes—they were closed—so she couldn't be petrified—but—

"Is she—" Neville wanted to ask, but thought better of it.

"Ginny, please wake up!" Tobias said desperately, shaking her body. But there was no response.

"She won't wake."

The voice startled Tobias, his first response to get up and see who was there. His wand laid on the ground beside his feet. Neville looked too, his body frozen in his spot.

He was leaning against a nearby pillar. He looked as if he was a ghost—the way he was blurry around the edges. But Tobias knew exactly who it was.

"Tom— _Tom Riddle_?"

Riddle nodded. "It is I, my grandson."

"What do you mean?" Tobias said, his attention now on his younger grandfather. "She's not—she isn't—?"

"She's still alive." He said simply. "But only just."

Neville squinted at the boy. "Are you a ghost?"

"A memory, actually, Mister Longbottom." He said quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed towards the end of the statue, and there laid the black leather diary that Tobias had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He had a suspicion of how it got there—but the diary was no longer important.

"Grandfather," He said desperately. "You have to help me—help us. We have to get her out of here. There's a basilisk—that's what was attacking the students, not Aragog. I don't know where it is, but if we go now—please."

But the young Tom Riddle did not move. Tobias returned back to Ginny's side, laying her head on his lap.

"Neville," he said. "Help me. We can levitate her out of the chamber."

But as he reached for his wand, it wasn't there. He looked up, watching as the young Tom Riddle twirled his wand in his hand. The young man was watching him intently. Something didn't feel right.

He tried to reach for his wand, but the young Tom Riddle pulled it back. A small smile forming on his lips.

"Listen," Tobias said urgently. "We have to go now! If the basilisk comes—"

Riddle smiled even more. "It won't come until it's called."

"What d'you mean?" Neville asked, backing further away from Tom.

Tobias groaned. "I have no time for games! Give me my wand. I need it."

"You don't." Riddle said calmly. "And neither do you, Mister Longbottom. _Expelliarmus!_ "

Neville's wand flew out of his hand, landing on the far side of the room.

"What are you-?" Tobias asked.

"I've waited a long time for this, my heir." Riddle said slowly. "It is unfortunate that you have ended up here tonight, Tobias." He then looked towards Neville, his eyes burning with desire. "But not as unfortunate as it is for you, Neville Longbottom."

Tobias shook his head. "Unfortunate? Do you not _understand_? We're in the Chamber of Secrets—"

"I know exactly where we are." Riddle smirked. "And tonight, everything will fall into place."

Tobias and Neville looked at each other, not understanding what the young Tom Riddle meant. But even then, Tobias felt a strong feeling in his gut that something wasn't right. They watched as the young man stepped closer, Tobias's wand in his hand.

"Tonight, the prophecy will be fulfilled."

* * *

Snape entered the girls' bathroom, frowning at the disposed cloaks lying on the ground. Parkinson was right—they had gone after the girl. He growled, kicking the cloaks to the side—the entrance to the chamber was already opened. LeStrange must've opened it.

He stripped himself of his cloak as well, throwing it on the ground with the rest. He looked at himself in the mirror, and instead of looking at his reflection, he tried to picture Lily's face in the mirror. He tried to imagine her voice telling him that he was doing the right thing.

He closed his eyes, once again trying to forget. He sat at the edge of the pipe, looking at himself one more time, before sliding down.

 **Author's Note: We're approaching the end! Many plot twists and doozies! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	35. COS19: He Who is Not Worthy

My lover's got humor

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval

I should've worshiped her sooner

~ Take Me to Church x Hozier

Chapter 35: He Who is Not Worthy

If Draco Malfoy knew he would spending his night shifting rocks with Theodore Nott and Ron Weasley while listening to a confused Lockhart and whining Zabini, he would've stayed in the staffroom. But here he was, trying to remove the barrier that separated him from his best friend and cousin. Tobias and Neville were now entering the Chamber of Secrets—where they would be saving Ginny and battling the basilisk. For every rock he moved, he prayed that his two friends would make it out alive. This was rock number fifty.

Tobias and Neville had entered the chamber at least an hour ago.

"It's so. Many. _Rocks._ " Theodore groaned, throwing another rock aside.

Ron nodded. "It would be easier if those two could help."

"I honestly don't understand what I'm doing down here." Lockhart said, sitting crisscross on the ground. "What did you all say this place was again?"

"Hogwarts." Said Draco. "You were a professor here."

"A professor? _Really_?"

"How long is this going to take?" Zabini growled. Draco had given him his shirt to wrap around his leg, but he could tell the boy was losing consciousness. "LeStrange should be back by now."

Draco frowned. "Shut up." But he didn't have the answer himself. He kept shifting the rock, trying to distract himself from the fact that his cousin might be dead—along with Neville. That they failed—there was no hope for Ginny. No justice for Hermione.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching from behind them. He turned around, silently gesturing for Ron and Theodore to pull out their wands. Ron had taken Zabini's, his now being lost in the rubble somewhere.

Blaise scooted closer to Lockhart, his face turning a sickly green as he was losing energy. Draco felt his heart pounding against his chest. Who else knew about Myrtle's bathroom? Who knew that they were down in the Chamber of Secrets? He gripped his wand harder, preparing to hex the intruder once they came around the bend.

He sighed in relief when he saw Professor Snape come into the light. The man wasn't wearing his usual black cloak—Draco assumed he tossed it before he came down the pipe. He didn't look particularly happy to see them—but then again, who would?

"Why is it _always_ you six?" He sneered. He looked around the area, noticing the rock barrier first. He then noticed that LeStrange and Longbottom were missing—they had to be on the other side. Zabini's leg was broken, and he could tell it had been broken for a while—his was losing consciousness faster than he should have if it had happened recently. And then there was Lockhart, who was looking like a lost child. He looked at Snape, a dreamy smile on his face.

"And who might you be?" He asked.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boys. "What happened to him?"

"He tried to erase our memories." Draco shrugged. "Idiot used Weasley's wand. He got what he deserved."

The professor sighed heavily, pulling out his wand. He healed Zabini's leg first, and then went over to Lockhart, diagnosing his condition. Whatever Weasley's wand did, it caused permanent damage—the spell was too powerful. He knew if he tried to reverse it, it would cause more harm than good. But then again, did he really want Lockhart to remember who he was again? He stood up, turning back to face the boys.

"Mister Malfoy, can I trust you to guide your friends to my office? Along with Mister Zabini and Lockhart?"

Draco nodded. "And what about Tobias and Neville?"

Snape didn't answer right away. The idea of Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom being on the other side made his stomach churn with uncertainty. The Potters and the Longbottoms had gone into hiding eleven years ago—when the prophecy was revealed that a boy born at the end of July would be able to defeat the Dark Lord. Voldemort went after the Potters, while Bellatrix LeStrange went after the Longbottoms. The mission was to kill the both boys, but their missions failed. Both boys lived. And now they would come face to face with a younger Tom Riddle. An entity much darker, and much dangerous that his older self.

"I will go after them." He said simply. "There is a ladder at the beginning of the tunnel. Use that and go straight to the Slytherin dungeons. No stops. Is that understood?"

Malfoy nodded. "Yes sir." He looked to the rest of the boys. "Let's go."

Theodore pointed his wand at Zabini. "Ladies first."

"You, too." Ron said, gesturing to Lockhart. "Get up."

Professor Lockhart and Zabini stood up—their clothes now brown and dusty from their travels. Draco's white t-shirt was also dusty—light grayish marks from the rocks stained the fabric. He looked over to see that Ron's and Theodore's shirts look the same—he wasn't the only one desperate to get to the other side.

The four boys and the professor began walking, leaving Professor Snape at the barrier. A small part of the blonde Slytherin wanted to curse himself for not staying—to help Professor Snape.

He stopped, turning back to look at the black- haired man.

"Professor!" He called, running back—his feet splashing against the ground.

Snape turned to face him. Draco stopped a few feet away from him.

"The monster in the chamber." He said slowly. "It's a basilisk. I thought I should tell you."

The blonde Slytherin then ran back to his friends, leading them back to the beginning of the tunnel where the ladder was waiting for them. Snape turned back to face the wall. _A basilisk?_ He thought. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Of course the monster hiding in the Chamber of Secrets would be a snake—and not just any snake. A giant snake with eyes like Medusa. The King of Serpents.

He bent down, continuing the task that Malfoy, Nott, and Weasley had started. He was tempted to use magic to break down the barrier, but he was afraid that it would make the situation worse. That the Chamber of Secrets would collapse within itself. One underground chamber was already destroyed—it wouldn't be wise to make two. Especially when the victims would be three children.

* * *

Tobias didn't understand what was going on. Prophecy? What Prophecy? What was his Grandfather talking about—what did Neville have to do with it? He turned to look at the boy—Neville was shaking all over, all the color was drained from his face. The young Tom Riddle was only sixteen, he wasn't supposed to be that scary. But yet, Tobias even felt chills when looking at him. Something wasn't right—he knew that much. Tom Riddle was alive, but Ginny—

"How did she get like this?" Tobias asked firmly, suspicion rising in his gut.

The boy clapped his hands together. "Well, that is an interesting question, Tobias. But I think the real question is why would Ginny Weasley open her heart and spill all her secrets to an invisible stranger?"

"The diary." Said Tobias, his eyes drifting over to the leather book.

Tom Riddle nodded. " _My_ diary. Little Ginny has been writing in it for _months_ , telling me all her pitiful worries and woes—how her brothers _tease_ her, and how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, and—" His eyes began to roar with fire, his jaw clenching. "—how Tobias LeStrange had a crush on her."

Tobias said nothing as the young Tom Riddle spoke. The boy stared at him darkly, his eyes never leaving Tobias's green ones. There was a distasteful look in his eye—a look of unworthiness.

"It's very boring, listening to the silly little troubles of an eleven- year- old girl. But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply _loved_ me."

Tobias clenched his fist around Ginny. "What did you do to her?"

Tom smiled. " _No one's ever understood me like you, Tom….I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in…it's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…"_

He walked lazily around Tobias, who was still on the ground holding Ginny. He pulled her closer, as if he could protect her from Tom Riddle—but he knew it was too late.

"I don't if _he_ ever told you this, Tobias, but I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginerva poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew more powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Ginny a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of _my_ soul back into her…"'

Neville shivered a bit, regaining enough courage to speak. "What d'you mean?" He asked.

Tobias knew exactly what his grandfather was talking about, and it tore him apart. Ginny. He used her—defiled her…

"Haven't you guessed yet, Mister Longbottom?" He laughed cynically. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

Neville went pale once more. "No."

Tobias gritted his teeth. "You used her."

"Yes," Tom Riddle said calmly, nonchalantly fixing his tie. "But if it makes you feel better, she didn't exactly _know_ what she was doing at first. But after a while, your smart little minx began to put two and two together, Tobias." He smiled wickedly as grandson's face turned red.

" _…why is it every time I sleepwalk, somebody ends up petrified?_ " He laughed again. _"But you don't understand, Tom! Justin and Colin are in the hospital! Colin is my friend and I can't even remember where I was when he was attacked. All of this started when I began talking to you._ "

Tobias looked down at Ginny. This was what she wanted to tell them earlier this morning—she needed them to help her. He swallowed—it must've been killing her, not being able to tell anyone what was going on. He didn't even care that he went through so much trouble being accused as the Heir of Slytherin. He looked back at the young Tom Riddle, tears blazing in his eyes. He was furious, disgusted—he used her, and she trusted him. And he hurt her, along with Hermione—along with Justin, and Colin, and the Ravenclaw prefect. This was not the man he looked up to—this was not the man he wanted to be.

"It took a while, however," Riddle continued. "for Ginny to stop trusting me. She tried to dispose of the diary, and I believe that's where you came in, my grandson. You and your friends found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could've picked it up, it was _you_ , Tobias LeStrange—the one _he_ chose. The very person _I_ was most anxious to meet…"

"Why?" Tobias spat. "Why me?"

"Because you're the chosen one," The boy drawled. "You're the one he chose, despite all odds. I needed to find out why he chose you, talk to you if I could, possibly even meet you. Of course it wasn't hard to gain your trust, but I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf Hagrid, to fully gain your trust—the icing on the cake."

"Hagrid's our friend!" Neville roared, his voice now shaking with rage. "And you framed him, didn't you?"

"It was my word against Hagrid's, Mister Longbottom." Riddle laughed again. "On one side, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student… on the other, big, blundering Hagrid. In trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls. But I will say, I was quite surprised the plan worked so well."

He shook his head, taking more lazy steps around the chamber.

"I was sure _someone_ would realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken _me_ five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance…as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!"

Tobias stood up, laying Ginny on the ground. Tom Riddle was the Heir of Slytherin. His _grandfather_ set the Basilisk loose those fifty years ago. So what did that make him? The second Heir of Slytherin? He felt sick—he thought about Hermione, he thought about his friends.

"Someone did realize it wasn't him, Tom." He said firmly. "Dumbledore—he saw right through you. I could tell, from that night you framed Hagrid."

Tom Riddle frowned. "Yes, I think Dumbledore might've guessed… he never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did. And after Hagrid was expelled, yes, he began to keep an annoyingly close watch on me. So I closed the chamber, but of course, I wasn't going to waste those years I spent searching for it. So I left behind this diary, which I have been trapped in for the past fifty years, in hopes that one day, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," Said Tobias, going to stand beside Neville. "No one died this time, not even Filch's cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again—"

"Silly boy," Riddle hissed. "I don't care about the Mudbloods anymore. Now that I have _you_ here—" He then looked back at Neville. "Now that I have you _both_ here."

Tobias clenched his fist. "You still haven't told me why."

"To see if you were worthy. The Tom Riddle you know now has forgotten himself—he has lost his drive, his desire. He treasures you more than he treasures himself, and quite frankly, I find myself to be quite _jealous._ "

Tobias watched him, he wanted to kill him right on the spot—he didn't care if the Chamber came crumbling down this time. But he couldn't, Neville and Ginny were also in the Chamber.

"So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. Given what she told me, I knew you would come to her rescue. And when you did, I would test your strength. To see if Tobias LeStrange, the Heir of the Dark Lord, was worthy of his title."

Tobias stepped forward, his eyes locking on the young Tom Riddle's. "And why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell me." Riddle smirked. "How is it that the young Tobias LeStrange could make Lord Voldemort so weak, so….levelled? How is it that the greatest wizard of all time falls short to a little boy like you?"

Tobias knew where this was going. Riddle was taunting him—he was nothing like his grandfather was now. But it disturbed him to no end that this is what his grandfather was. That his grandfather was the Heir of Slytherin—all the thoughts swirled in his head as he stared into the boy's eyes. He didn't want to believe this, yet it was right in front of his face.

This time Neville stepped up. "Why does it matter to you if he's worthy or not?" He snapped. "Voldemort was after your time…"

Tobias felt something snap inside of him. He looked at Neville, who was red with anger—ready to defend him at all costs. But he didn't know—he didn't know the truth.

Tom sighed pleasantly. "You didn't tell him, did you, Tobias?" He tutted. "You Slytherins and your secrets."

"Tell me what?" Neville spat back, looking to the dark haired Slytherin beside him.

"Voldemort," Tom Riddle said softly, "is my past, present, and future, Neville Longbottom."

Tobias felt like everything was happening in slow motion. The young Tom Riddle then pulled out his wand and trace it through the air. Tobias watched as he wrote the three words.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He waved Tobias's wand once, and the letters in his name began to rearrange themselves. Tobias watched once again as the color drained from Neville's face. The Slytherin boy felt numb as he read the next four words.

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

* * *

Blaise was furious. Right now, he should've been in the Chamber of Secrets—rescuing Ginny from the basilisk. But instead, he was with the worst—Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, and Ron Weasley. And let's not forget the grand genius Lockhart, who is the reason they even left the tunnel. Out of all the wands he could've grabbed—he grabs Weasley's. And Weasley's wand causes what felt like a massive earthquake, resulting in a giant rock barrier to divide the group. Now LeStrange and Longbottom were frolicking in the Chamber of Secrets, instead of him.

Malfoy was in front, guiding the group through the corridors towards Snape's office. It was strange how Malfoy didn't protest with Snape about saving his best friend. If Blaise didn't know any better, he would've thought they had all been in this situation before. The way the professor asked "Why is it always you six?" Obviously, he was referring to the rest of the group—Granger, LeStrange, and Longbottom—this was Blaise's first time being in a situation like this.

They finally entered the Slytherin dungeons. Lockhart seemed fascinated by the castle's architecture, silent "oooos" and "ahhhhs" coming from his mouth. Blaise also wondered why Snape didn't fix Lockhart's memory, just as he had fixed his leg. But that was the least of his concern. The tip of the iceberg was: What were they going to do when they reached Snape's office?

Malfoy had to have some sort of plan—surely they weren't just going to sit there until the rest returned. That's even if they did return.

They reached the office door, and Malfoy stood to the side, motioning for Blaise and Lockhart to go first. Lockhart, now being skeptical of where he was, shuffled from side to side nervously, causing the tan Slytherin to roll his eyes and push through the door.

Once stepping foot inside, however, he quickly wished Lockhart had gone first.

" _Where is he_?" growled Pansy Parkinson. She had him pinned against the wall, her wand firmly pressed into his lower abdomen. He smiled pleasantly, this night was just getting better and better.

"It's alright, Parkinson." Malfoy grunted. "He's with us."

Nott then stepped inside. "Unfortunately."

"Where's Tobias?" She asked, never removing her grip from Blaise.

"Where do you think?" Weasley said tiredly, slouching down in one of the office chairs. "He's gone inside the Chamber of Secrets. Neville, too."

Pansy closed her eyes. _Idiot._ She finally let go of Zabini, the boy dusting himself off as she did so. She sat back on top of Snape's desk, crossing her legs like she always did while running a hand through her long black hair. She stopped to notice all the boys—Draco and Theodore looked worried, truly worried. She had never seen Theo so distraught. And Ron, he looked out of it—like his spirit was somewhere else. Maybe it was—his little sister had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Girls go to this school as well?" Lockhart asked. Pansy stared at him with a look of total confusion. Was he mad? He's been teaching her for a whole year. She looked to Malfoy for answers, but he just shook his head.

"Long story." Theodore muttered.

Pansy nodded, not caring for Lockhart's sudden loss of memory. "How long has he been down there?"

Draco looked at the clock. "An hour now, maybe a little bit over."

Ron sniffed at this. Pansy knew what he was thinking, but she wouldn't allow her mind to go there. They weren't dead—they couldn't be.

"Ron," She said softly trying to gather her words. "They aren't—she isn't—"

"Thank you." Ron sniffed again. "But no thank you."

The Slytherin girl sighed, not knowing what else to say. She looked to Draco, who had the same look in his eye that she had. They were both thinking about the same person.

Tobias.

* * *

Snape was still gathering rocks when a faint white light entered the tunnel. At first, he barely noticed it, believing that he was finally making a breakthrough with the barrier. But as it got brighter and brighter with Snape only removing two more rocks, he knew that wasn't the case. He stood up, facing the light and recognized it as a ghostly silver tabby cat—Professor McGonagall's Patronus. It sat on the pile of rocks made by Malfoy, Nott, and Weasley, staring at the professor intently.

" _Any luck?_ " He heard McGonagall's voice resonate throughout the tunnel.

"No." said Snape. "Thanks to our dear friend Lockhart, there is a barrier separating one side of the tunnel from the chamber."

He heard the professor groan. " _Of course."_

Snape turned back to the barrier. "But that's the least of our problems. Two of our favorite students have entered the Chamber."

 _"Who?"_

"Tobias LeStrange and Neville Longbottom."

There was a silence—Snape knew McGonagall was realizing what he realized before.

 _"The prophecy—you don't think—"_

"It's a possibility." Snape interrupted, tossing another rock. "Either way, it's dangerous for both of them to be down there. You heard what he said—the boy is dangerous. He could do anything."

" _So what do we do?"_ McGonagall asked. _"Should we…_ " She trailed off.

Snape paused for a moment. "No." He finally said. "If too many people get involved, we may compromise the boys' life."

 _"But if we don't, he may kill them both anyway. Despite the prophecy!"_

"Technically," Snape drawled. "LeStrange cannot be harmed. Lily's love is too strong. If the younger Tom Riddle knows who he _really_ is—he will go after LeStrange first. We can only hope that he keeps him distracted long enough so I can get there."

Another silence. _"And the monster?"_

"A basilisk."

 _"Great Merlin."_

Snape didn't respond, he kept tossing more rocks. This time more desperate than before. Time felt like it was running out, but there was no way to know if time had already run out. He hoped he wasn't too late—he had to get there for her.

He turned back to see that the silver tabby cat was still there.

"Cat got your tongue?" He drawled.

 _"She would be proud of you."_ McGonagall said softly. " _Lily._ "

"Is this your way of making amends?" The man sneered, throwing another rock aside. "Throwing her in my face?"

 _"….I've misjudged you, Severus, I see that now._ "

He grimaced, though she could not see. "Just because you were too late to see what he _really_ was, doesn't make us alike." He threw another rock. "I knew what he was when took the mark—he didn't deceive me-."

 _"Severus—"_

"Do not project your mistakes on me, Minerva." He said slowly, crushing the rock dust in his hand. "We are nothing alike."

He then waved his wand, and the Patronus disappeared. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn't have time to worry about McGonagall and her regrets. Right now he needed to get to LeStrange and Longbottom before Riddle did. He had to get there. For her.

* * *

Neville felt like someone had hit him with a bludger. He felt like he had fallen twenty feet from the air, like he had first year from his broomstick. He saw the name burn in the air—he read them over and over, with the same intensity as the first time. Lord Voldemort. The Lord Voldemort, was Tobias's grandfather. He was Tom Riddle. The Heir of Slytherin.

Riddle smiled at his shock. "You seemed surprised, Mister Longbottom. Surely you didn't think I was going to use my filthy muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? Why would I keep the name of a foul, common muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? So I created myself a new name—a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Neville stared at the man—his mind seemed to be going in loops. This stood the man who murdered hundreds of people. The reason his parents were in the hospital at St. Mungo's. And he was Tobias's grandfather—his friend.

"You're not." Tobias spoke, his fist still balled. Neville looked at the boy, puzzled at why would he stand against his grandfather.

Riddle frowned. "Not what?"

"You said it yourself." Tobias continued, his voice like fire. "The Tom Riddle I know isn't like you. He's weak—he isn't the greatest sorcerer."

"You dare?" Riddle hissed. "You dare speak against me, boy?"

Tobias took a step forward, and Neville had the urge to pull him back. "Sorry to disappoint you but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. The one wizard my grandfather is afraid of. Who _you're_ afraid of."

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere _memory_ of me!" The young Riddle hissed. He was no longer smiling, no longer laughing. Tobias knew he had hit a nerve. _Good._

Tobias smirked back. "He isn't gone—and definitely not because of you."

Riddle's jaw was clenched, his nostrils flared. He was gripping Tobias's wand so tight his knuckles were white. Neville could feel his heart about to explode. What was Tobias doing? Why was he speaking against his grandfather? What was that music?

Riddle stopped. "What is that sound?"

The music grew louder. It had a chilling feeling, as if something dead was rising. It made the hairs on Tobias's neck stand up, and Neville couldn't help but shiver with fear. Riddle covered his ears as the pitch of the music reached a height that vibrated the whole room. And then it stopped. They watched as a set of flames burned on top of the nearest pillar. When the flames disappeared, a crimson bird flew out—heading straight towards Neville and Tobias.

"Fawkes." Tobias said, noticing the familiar features of the headmaster's bird.

Riddle looked oddly fascinated. "A phoenix?"

When Fawkes arrived at the two boys, he dropped something at Neville's feet. It was brown and ragged—Tobias knew exactly what it was. But why?

"And that's the old school Sorting Hat—" His fascination stopped, and the chamber filled with laughter once more. Tobias didn't understand—how were they going to save Ginny with a _hat_?

"This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! You are a fool, Tobias LeStrange, to think that you have a chance to stand against me. You may have been chosen—but your arrogance only declines your worthiness."

Neville seemed to gain more of his confidence, now with Fawkes perched on his shoulder. Tobias wasn't standing down, and he wouldn't leave his friend to fight Tom Riddle alone. Fawkes was here for a reason, and so was the sorting hat—though right now they looked completely useless. He couldn't think straight as Riddle stood there laughing.

"So let's prove your worth once and for all. Let's end the game of all games. Is Tobias LeStrange the real Heir of the Dark Lord? Or is he Lord Voldemort's demise? Are the boys of July proof of the prophecy?"

Tobias watched as Riddle became clearer—more human-like. This meant that Ginny didn't have much time left. The odds were unfair—Riddle had his wand, Neville's was somewhere deep within the Chamber.

"Give me my wand." Tobias said darkly. "And we can make this a fair fight."

Riddle tutted. "When will you learn, Tobias? This isn't how the game works. So I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against Tobias LeStrange, Heir of the Dark Lord." He then held up his hands, as if he was summoning something.

"Prove to me your worth—or die."

He looked up to the face of Salazar Slytherin, his arms wide. His eyes were closed, as if he was concentrating on something. Neville and Tobias were frozen in their spots. Tobias felt his heart drop as he heard the young Tom Riddle speak again.

" _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_

There was silence, and then a loud grumbling noise coming from the mouth of Slytherin's statue. Neville swallowed as the mouth opened wider and wider—revealing a large black hole. They could hear a faint hissing noise coming from inside. Tobias took a step back.

Fawkes then flew away, and Neville felt his legs about to give in.

"Don't be afraid, my boy." Riddle said with glee. "It will be over soon. For years I have waited for this moment—and here it is. Let the games begin."

Tobias could feel his breathing getting heavier as he heard the loud thump of the basilisk hitting the Chamber ground. He could feel it getting nearer and nearer—he could almost see the snake unraveling itself—preparing. He could hear the faint hiss of Tom Riddle speaking once more.

" _Kill them."_

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was sleeping soundly in his bed when the first knock sounded. He ignored it, thinking it might be the house elves—Dobby had been acting strange lately, punishing himself more than usual, but the blonde man thought nothing of it.

The second knock was louder than before, but surely nothing was urgent enough for someone to come knocking in the middle of the night. Had the urge arisen, the person would've just floo'd to the foyer—demanding a house elf to come retrieve him. But once again, Lucius ignored it—any member of the Dark Lord's ranks wouldn't have knocked on the door. No emergency.

But then came the third, fourth, and fifth knock—banging on the door as if someone was ramming a tree bark against it. This time it woke Narcissa—who was never a pleasant woman when her sleep was disturbed.

"Lucius." She hissed. "Lucius."

The man tried to cover his ears with his pillow, but his wife snatched it away from him. He heard the whoosh of the pillow being thrown, and then the sound of it landing on the ground.

"Someone is at the door." She whispered.

Lucius groaned. "Whoever it is, my love, isn't anyone of importance—surely they can wait until the morning."

"So they can continue beating down our _door_?"

The man sighed, seeing that this was a fight he would lose. "Dobby!" He hollered.

There was a _crack_ and the feeble house elf appeared. Lucius could see the outline of the elf as he stood in the midst of the curtains—the moonlight reflecting off his eyes.

"Sir Malfoy has called for Dobby?"

"Yes, Dobby." Lucius sat up, speaking calmly as an attempt to calm his wife. "Will you please go to the door and see who it is that's knocking?"

Dobby nodded and disappeared. Lucius laid back down on his pillow, hoping that Dobby would not find anyone—or that the knocking was just a hallucination. Narcissa stayed sitting up, her arms folded across her chest. After five minutes, Lucius felt as if the problem was solved, drifting back into his peaceful sleep.

But then there was another _crack_ and Dobby had returned. Lucius glared at the elf with one eye opened. The elf flinched before him.

"The Minister of Magic has come to see Sir Malfoy." Dobby said weakly. "He would not wait until morning, sir, Dobby tried."

Narcissa frowned. "The Minster of Magic? What is he doing here?" She rounded on her husband. "What have you done?"

Lucius was already fastening his robe by the time she asked. "I'm sure it's nothing—probably wants to know how long Dumbledore's suspension is—I never mentioned it in the deed." He then grabbed his cane. "This won't take long. Come along, Dobby."

The blonde man and his house elf then exited the room. He had lied to his wife—the length of Dumbledore's suspension was in the deed. But he certainly had no idea why Fudge was here, knocking on his door in the middle of the night. He didn't want her to worry—honestly it was none of her business.

They descended down the steps, and Lucius saw that the kitchen light was on—that must be where Dobby took the Minister to wait. He promptly walked down, turning into the kitchen to greet Fudge—his usual Malfoy smirk across his face. But his smirk was quickly wiped away when he realized who _else_ was in his kitchen.

"Weasley?" He said confused, before regaining his composure. "Here to conduct another raid I, assume?"

Arthur kept his face leveled, which made the blonde man a bit uneasy. "Not this time, Malfoy. I have something better in mind."

A second later and Lucius was being grabbed from behind, his arms pinned behind his back. He snapped his head at the men—two of Fudge's personal Aurors.

"What is the meaning of this?" The man hissed, struggling in their hold. "Let go of me."

Fudge sat back in his seat, sipping a cup of tea one of the house elves had given him. "This- is called an arrest, Lucius."

"An _arrest?_ For what? I've done nothing wrong!"

"Blackmailing is a crime, Lucius. Something you've been doing for a very long time." Fudge continued. "It's just this time—your actions have endangered the lives of many children."

The blonde man growled. "This is about Dumbledore isn't it?" His eyes narrowed at Arthur. "You did this—you told these _lies._ Why can't you all just accept the fact that I am _right_?"

There was a smack on the table, and Lucius's face went a shade lighter. It was the red portfolio he had given to Willis Mannery, the head of the school governors. How did Weasley get it? How did Fudge get involved?

"My file Weasley?" He smirked, trying to play his nervousness off.

Arthur smirked as well. "No, yours is a bit bigger. This, however, is the portfolio you gave to Willis Mannery—the content is very interesting Lucius. You do know how to find the worst in others."

"You have no—"

"Proof?" Weasley interrupted. He then pulled out a piece of parchment from his robes. "This is a statement from Mannery, as well as three other governors, stating that you blackmailed them into signing Dumbledore's order of suspension."

Lucius went red once more. "They're _lying_! Fudge you must see reason, they want me out of my position, because of my past mistakes. That's prejudice— _discrimination_."

"Call it what you want, Malfoy." Said Fudge as he drunk some more tea. "But all the signs point back to you. You can express your opinions during your trial with the Wizengamot."

"Trial?"

"We've given the case to the Wizengamot to look over." Weasley spoke again. "Your trial isn't until tomorrow morning, but we were given instruction to take you—"

" _Take me where?!"_ Lucius roared.

Arthur smiled. "Azkaban of course, there is a cozy little holding cell waiting for you until the morning. I hope you didn't expect us to leave you here until the morning—where you could slither your way out of the country."

Lucius was silent, his chest rising and falling with anger. He didn't even hear the sound of footsteps coming down the staircase.

"What is going on?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, her face one of unpleasantness. She looked at Lucius, then at Fudge and Weasley. "Why is my husband being restrained?"

"Take him away." Fudge simply said, standing up from the table.

"Take him where?" Narcissa continued, her voice rising. "Lucius what have you done?"

Her husband did not answer her as he was escorted out of the mansion. She stood there in her robe, watching as the two Aurors and her husband apparated out of sight.

"Everything will be explained to you at the trial, Missus Malfoy." Fudge said, setting down the tea cup. "That's about all I can do for you tonight."

She glared at the man, her eyes slicing through him. Fudge jumped slightly when his teacup shattered. He then walked out of the room, Arthur Weasley right behind him. They left her there—questions swirling through her mind, fear and anger bubbling through her chest. Her anger wasn't necessarily directed towards Fudge, or the Ministry itself—it was at Lucius. The way he ignored her when she asked what was happening. It was the same when he had been arrested for his involvement with the Dark Lord.

He had done something, she knew. And once again she had no knowledge of it— and it irked her to no end. She was tired of this life—she thought he had changed. They had Draco—he had promised to be more careful. But of course, as long as Voldemort was alive—her husband would be at his side.

She closed the door, standing in the darkness. Alone.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	36. COS20: Content

So you wanna play with magic

Boy, you should know whatcha falling for

Baby do you dare to do this

Cause I'm coming atcha like a dark horse

~ Dark Horse x Katy Perry

Chapter 36: Content

"Neville—run! Take Ginny and Run!"

Tobias had his eyes closed—he could only rely on the sounds around him now. The basilisk was loose—Tom Riddle had ordered it to kill them.

He could hear Neville from across the chamber—they were now separated. There was no way to know where the younger Riddle was. He kept running, his hands out to feel for the pillars, for Fawkes, for _anything._

"And leave you here alone—with _him_?" He heard the Gryffindor shout. There was a thud and Tobias knew that Neville had fallen—he could hear his grandfather laughing in the background. _Get up, Neville. Get. Up._

He stopped, waiting for the sound of footsteps. He felt his body calming when he heard the sound of Neville's shoes—he always took heavier steps than the rest of the group. He was about to set off again when he was smashed against the wall—now gasping for breath. He heard the sounds of rocks crashing down on the chamber floor.

He opened his eyes, his first instinct to see if Neville was alright. The boy had found his wand, defending the far side of the wall. Ginny was still lying unconscious in the middle of the chamber. He watched as the boy pointed to something towards the ceiling and another crash of rocks snapped Tobias's attention to something else.

The basilisk was weaving through pillars—as if it was chasing something. Tobias slowly side-stepped towards the basilisk, motioning for Neville to do the same. He moved with one- eye opened, ready to close them if need be. Whatever was distracting the large serpent, the Slytherin boy hoped it would distract it long enough for Tobias to attack. Over the summer, his use of wandless magic had improved. He knew if he and Neville used the same spell, it would cause enough force to take down the basilisk—he just needed to get closer.

But Tobias stopped once he noticed what was distracting the snake—it was Fawkes. The crimson bird was flying around the head of the basilisk—the serpent snapping madly at it. Tobias froze at the sight of its fangs—they were thin and sharp as knives. There was a squawk and Fawkes dived at the basilisk—another second and heavy drops of blood were falling from the scene. Tobias ducked, barely missing the blow that was set to come from the snake's tail. The crumble of rocks couldn't drown the violent hissing noise that came from the basilisk.

The snake turned, and Tobias felt his heart drop once he realized his eyes were not closed. But there was no need, as the once yellow poisonous eyes of the basilisk were no more. Fawkes had punctured them both—the serpent was now blind.

Tobias thought quickly. " _Help me._ " He hissed. _"The Second Heir of Slytherin commands-"_

" _NO!_ " Riddle shouted, his voice filled with anger and frustration. " _LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! GO AFTER THE BOYS! USE YOUR SMELL—YOUR EARS! KILL THEM!_ "

But the snake wasn't listening to either of them—it was still swaying wildly, trying to locate Fawkes to deliver its revenge. Fawkes was still flying around, pecking and jabbing at the snake. The bird made eye contact with Tobias—it was still trying to distract the serpent. He and Neville had a chance.

Neville stood on the other side, ducking and dodging the snake's tail as it blindly fought with Fawkes. The fifth time he ducked, something soft hit him in the face. Staring down he realized it was the sorting hat. Not knowing what to do—desperate to help Tobias and save Ginny—Neville rammed the hat on his head—hoping that it would tell him what to do—perhaps sing a song.

He closed his eyes. "Help me, Help me, Help me—" He begged.

"Neville duck!" He heard Tobias screamed. Neville dived to the floor instantly, the hat falling off of his head as he fell. When he looked up, he was expecting to be disappointed—the hat didn't respond. But he frowned in confusion as he saw something silver glittering out of the mouth of hat. He crawled closer and realized he was staring at the handle of a sword.

"THE BOYS! KILL THE BOYS, FORGET ABOUT THE BIRD!" He heard Riddle scream. He saw as Tobias was still watching—Neville knew he was trying to figure out what to do. If Fawkes was distracting the basilisk, it meant that they had a chance. Neville grabbed the handle, pulling out a long sword. He could use it to kill the Snake—he just needed to get close enough.

Tobias kept his eyes on the basilisk—it was about to fall. If he casted the spell first, no doubt Neville would join in. He just needed to wait at the right moment.

Neville watched as the basilisk's head fell, this would be the perfect time. The serpent's body coiled and swung lazily—smashing into pillars on its way down. It was now or never.

"STUPIFY!" Tobias yelled, and the snake was forcefully pushed backwards. Neville scrambled off the ground, holding up the sword—preparing to strike. But the basilisk was faster, its tail crashing into Neville's stomach—knocking the boy backwards—the silver sword falling out of his hand.

The basilisk then went after Tobias, lunging towards the Slytherin. Tobias jumped out of the way—falling side by side with the sword. He looked at Neville, who was trying to catch his breath from the blow.

"The sword, Tobias." His friend breathed out, pointing to the weapon. "Use the sword."

Tobias didn't question it, grabbing the ruby red handle of the sword. It felt perfect in his hand. There was an angry hiss, and the Slytherin rolled over—coming face to face with the serpent king. The basilisk must've heard the sword clang against the ground, because it lunged for Tobias again, but missed. Tobias rolled over just in time, standing up to defend himself—the sword gripped tightly in his hand.

" _THIS IS IT_!" He heard Riddle roar. " _NO MORE GAMES! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!_ "

The snake rose once more, and Tobias braced himself. He had one chance—one chance to kill the basilisk. Once chance to save Ginny, to save Neville—to get justice for Hermione—to prove his worth. He was the Heir of the Dark Lord—this was his one chance to prove it.

The basilisk lunged for him once more, and Tobias stood his ground, pushing all his weight into the sword. The mouth of the serpent opened and Tobias drove the sword through the root of its mouth. He immediately felt the blood gushing on his oxford, but he ignored it. Not because he didn't care for the blood, but because something had went into his elbow—a sharp, stinging pain arising. He looked down, his attention now capture by the white basilisk fang that was now sinking into his arm—breaking off as the serpent fell to the ground—slightly twitching as it bled out.

Tobias fell backwards, now feeling lightheaded. His hand found the end of the fang and removed it from his arm. He groaned in pain as he pulled it out, throwing it across the chamber. His vision soon became blurry, but he could still see Neville running towards him, the Gryffindor quickly unbuttoning his shirt as he approached him.

"No." Tobias said weakly. "No. Take Ginny and go."

Neville shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tobias looked away to watch a blur of scarlet land onto Neville's shoulder. The boy petted the blur, and Tobias knew then that it was Fawkes.

"You were fantastic, Fawkes…" Neville said softly.

Behind them both, they could hear laughter. A cruel, venomous laughter.

* * *

Snape had finally made a way through the rocks—not stopping to see if the entrance was stable or not. He had already spent so much time moving the rocks, he had no more time for stops. He ran to the entrance to the Chamber, stopping at the two entwined snakes with emerald eyes.

" _Open._ " He said quickly, and the snakes began to move, revealing the entrance.

He ran in—his movements become slower as he took in the scene. He noticed the snake first. It was dead he knew—the tip of a sword sticking out of its head. He took a step forward, noticing the splashing sound that was being made as he walked. He looked down—blood. Puddles of it. He was too late. _No. No, Severus, do not think about that._

He kept walking—discovering more and more debris on the way. Broken pillars, large pieces of rubble—the sorting hat? He was stopped once more as he heard someone laughing. He knew that laugh—he knew that voice.

"Well done, Tobias LeStrange." The young Riddle spoke. "But you forgot one _tiny_ detail. You weren't supposed to die. I guess you aren't worthy after all—dying for the sake of others. _Disgusting._ "

Snape walked forward, making an effort to keep his shoes from splashing so loudly on the chamber floor. He reached for his wand. The young Riddle sounded clear— _alive._ Was he already human? Was the Weasley girl— _No._

Riddle laughed again. "Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. He's crying."

Tobias LeStrange dead? No. It couldn't be. Snape felt his heart clench—he was supposed to protect him. For her. For all of them. He was their savior. Harry Potter could not be dead. He could not be.

Snape kept moving, the four bodies now coming into view. Longbottom was kneeling by LeStrange—who looked as if he was losing consciousness. The Weasley girl was lying in the middle of the chamber—if she was still alive—Snape did not know.

"I think I'm going to sit here and watch you die. Then you're next, Mister Longbottom. But don't worry, once I become fully human, I'll tell your families _personally_ how you died. How unworthy you both were."

This time Snape came into view—making eye contact with Tobias. He looked into those green eyes. His attention was diverted when the voice of Tom Riddle entered his thoughts.

"Severus." He said—his voice just as chilling as his older counterpart. "How wonderful of you to join us."

The man said nothing, watching as Tobias's body began to sway slightly—he was losing life quickly. He then noticed Fawkes, who was crying on the boy's arm. _Hurry up, already._ This is not how it would end.

"So this is how it ends." Riddle said, smiling. "Tobias LeStrange, the chosen one, defeated by the _real_ Heir of Slytherin—who he unwisely defied." He twiddled Tobias's wand in his hand. He then looked at Severus, and his mouth curled into a smirk. Snape knew that smirk.

"On second thought, I've become bored of this. Severus, why don't you do the honors? Why don't you finish what you started?"

Tobias looked at Snape, not understanding what the young Tom Riddle meant. _Finish what he started_? Was Snape the reason why he was down here? Like how it was Quirrell who wanted him to end up in the chamber last term, on his quest for the Philosopher's Stone? The man turned back to face him, but Tobias watched as his eyes quickly went to his arm, his wounded arm.

Or so he thought.

The chamber was coming back into focus. He could clearly see Neville and Fawkes. He looked at his arm, expecting his wound from the basilisk fang to still be there. But it wasn't—there was no wound. He wasn't dying anymore—that explained why he could see Snape. That's what Snape was waiting for—for Fawkes to heal him. _No_. Snape wasn't the reason he was down here—but what did Riddle mean?

Riddle chuckled. "The bird may heal you, Tobias, but this is still your end. Severus, if you will."

There was a pause, and Tobias and Snape once again made eye contact. He couldn't read the professor's face, but his hopes of a savior quickly fell as Snape stepped forward, kicking the basilisk fang to the side—where it landed next to Neville. He then pulled out his wand, aiming it at Tobias's head.

Neville whipped out his wand. "No!"

" _Expelliarmus._ " Snape muttered, and Neville's wand flew away once again.

Riddle smiled. "You know the words, Severus-you know the spell."

Tobias closed his eyes, this was it. He knew he couldn't fight against Snape—there was nothing he could do. Fawkes had flown away and Neville had no wand. They would die in this chamber—and nobody would know.

There was a whoosh and something landed in Tobias's lap. He opened his eyes, slowly looking down. He took a deep breath— _the diary._

Snape must've seen it as well, because he knelt down, throwing it to the side as well. Once again, landing next to Neville, along with the basilisk fang. The professor then turned to look at Longbottom. Tobias didn't know what he said, but he could see the creases of his mouth moving. Neville slightly nodded. Snape then turned back to Tobias—their eyes meeting once more.

"How do you want your death, LeStrange?" He sneered. "Slowly or quickly?"

Tobias closed his eyes again. "Just get it over with."

"Mister Longbottom, do you have anything you would like to saw to your friend before I kill him? Or anything you would like to say before you die as well?"

Tobias squeezed his eyes tighter. A part of him made him believe that he wasn't going to die—that Snape had a plan. But the thumping in his heart convinced him otherwise.

"Yes sir, I do." Said Neville, and Tobias felt his heart pound even harder. _No, Neville. Stand down._

"I have something to say to Tom Riddle, actually." The boy continued.

Riddle smirked. "And what's that?"

"Go hump a duck."

There was a loud piercing scream and Tobias opened his eyes. Thinking it was Neville, he snapped his head towards the boy—but was surprised to see that Neville was alive. His hand was wrapped around the basilisk fang, which was now halfway deep into Tom Riddle's diary—ink gushing all over the floor. Tobias then looked towards Tom Riddle, who was now coming apart. His skin was breaking off, and his figuring was becoming more and more transparent. And then, he was gone.

There was a soft clatter, and Tobias's wand fell to the ground. Everything was silent except for the sound of ink that was still dripping. Neville had removed his hand from the fang, running his hand through his hair.

Tobias crawled over, grabbing Neville by his shoulders. "You did it!" He breathed out. "Neville, you did it."

Neville chuckled weakly. "I did, huh?"

There was a faint groan and both boys turned towards the middle of the chamber. Ginny was moving, the color now returning to her skin. The two boys hurried towards her as she sat up—watching as her eyes traveled from the now dead basilisk and the stabbed diary. She gasped, her body now shaking and tears falling down her face.

"Tobias—I—I tried—I tried to tell you-"

"I know." Tobias interrupted her. "This is what you wanted to tell us this morning. We know about Tom Riddle and what he did to you. We came to save you."

Neville nodded. "Riddle's gone. The basilisk is dead, Ginny."

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny cried, her eyes weren't locked on them anymore. They were locked on Snape, who was now standing behind the boys. "I've always looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B—Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and— _w- what'll Mum and Dad say?_ "

The three children looked at Snape. The man sighed, his eyes leaving those of the crying girl.

"Your mother and father will be glad to see that you're alive, Miss Weasley." He said. "As we all are."

The Weasley girl sniffed, nodding at the professors words.

Tobias stood up, stretching out his hand for Ginny to take. "Let's get out of here."

Ginny was hesitant at first—remembering that Tobias had a crush on her. But those thoughts escaped her—he had come to save her. So she took his hand, and allowed him to help her up. Her legs were wobbly as she stood up—she was still weak. Tobias threw her arm over his shoulder, and Neville did the same with her other arm—both of them leading her out of the Chamber.

Snape walked behind them, the damaged diary in his hand. He wasn't sure if his plan would work—he wasn't aware of what type of dark magic was lying inside Lord Voldemort's diary. But it was over now—yet another thought filled his mind as he watched Tobias LeStrange walk out of the chamber.

Would the destruction of the diary affect the real Tom Riddle? His younger counterpart had crumbled once the fang made contact. What damage did it cause to the older one?

* * *

He laid on his back, staring at the light at the top of his study.

Can you feel the carpet? _Yes._

Move your fingers. _One, Two, Three, Four, Five._

Toes? _Same._

Deep breaths. Through your mouth.

He felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him. Like someone had stabbed him in the chest. Like someone had dug into his soul and ripped out a piece of it. It was then that he knew it was done—the horcrux was destroyed. The younger Tom Riddle was gone.

He sighed. It was over—Severus had done it. But there was a downside—he felt weaker. He growled to himself—the destruction of part of his soul had removed the effects of the elixir of life. Slughorn said that might be a side effect—but it had been almost a year since he took the potion. He had hoped that the potion would improve his immune system—make him invincible to situations like these.

There was a knock on the door, and Tom Riddle closed his eyes in annoyance. He summoned his black cane from the corner of the room, using it to get himself up. He swayed to the side, quickly sitting down in his seat. It was worse than he thought—he was weaker than before. He opened his drawers—he had no vials, no potions. He slammed the drawers shut—preparing to roar with anger, but there was another knock on the door.

"Come in." He growled.

The door opened and an angry Narcissa Malfoy stepped in.

"You're not allowed here." The man said simply, turning his chair towards the window. "Anything you need, you can deliver your message through Lucius."

"I would," The woman said tightly. "If he hadn't been arrested by the Ministry."

Tom Riddle whipped back around. " _What?_ "

"Fudge took him in on blackmail charges. He has a trial with the Wizengamot tomorrow morning."

The man was silent, which made Narcissa even furious.

"This was supposed to stop." She hissed. "The lies. The secrets. He told me he would stop! For me, for Draco—"

"Your husband knew the risks when he signed up for this task, Cissa." He said bluntly. "Your quarrel is with your husband, not with me."

"Disown him." She blurted out.

Riddle frowned at her. "Excuse me?"

"Disown him." She repeated. "Remove him from your ranks. Leave us alone. Leave my son alone—he will no longer be your heir."

"You do not command me." Riddle said darkly. He held up his hand and clenched his fist. He watched the effects come undone as Narcissa gagged, holding her hands around her throat. He leaned over the desk, his brown eyes meeting her grey ones.

"The next time you come into my office—without my authority—I will kill you on sight." He whispered. "Lucius will not protect you—and Draco will forget about you. You are nothing compared to them—what they will be. And if you _dare_ stand in their way, you will regret it."

He unclenched his fists, and Narcissa fell to the floor, gasping for air. She looked pathetic beneath him, even in his weaker state. Why couldn't she be like her sister? Who would've fought to the death for him? Who knew what must be done to uphold his reign.

"Get out." He then waved his wand, dragging her body out of his study, the door slamming behind her. He then stood up once more, grabbing his cane. Despite Narcissa's outburst, there was another issue. Lucius had been arrested—for blackmail charges. But what if the Minster knew? About the diary? The Chamber of Secrets?

Lucius would be sentenced to Azkaban, and Lord Voldemort couldn't have that. The boys were getting older—and now, with Voldemort being as weak as he was, the resurrection ceremony would have to occur. All of his other followers were in hiding, and he needed Lucius to draw them out. As he grabbed a handful of floo powder, he knew it was one man he could go to.

Terrell Nott.

* * *

Theodore was sitting in Snape's chair. It had been three hours since they first went through the tunnel to enter the Chamber of Secrets. Snape hadn't come back, neither had Tobias or Neville—or in Ron's case, Ginny. What was going on down there? Were they fighting the basilisk? Did they save Ginny?

He looked around—Lockhart had fallen asleep. Blaise was sitting in a corner, he looked as worried as Theodore did. But about who? And why was he even with them anyway? He didn't even like the Weasley's—that crap about keeping the school open was a cover up. Something else was going on.

Pansy was still sitting on top of Snape's desk—no doubt thinking about Tobias. Draco was sitting in Snape's office chair, his leg shaking. He had been sitting like that for the past two hours, watching the door—waiting. He hadn't said anything to anyone—nobody spoke to each other. It was a terrible waiting game—Theodore didn't even want to break the silence.

But he needed them to talk—he needed a distraction. He needed something to take his mind off the fact that Tobias and Neville were dead—that Snape got there too late. Or Snape was dead himself. That the basilisk won and that Hogwarts was still closing. That all the students were going home tomorrow, never to come back.

A lock clicked and everyone became alerted. Draco stood up for the first time, his wand aimed at the door. Pansy did the same—so did Theodore and Ron. Blaise pulled his out but didn't hold it up. Lockhart was still fast asleep in his corner.

Another locked clicked and the door opened, revealing Professor Snape. His trousers were covered in blood, and his face was emotionless.

"Come with me." He said. He then turned around, leaving the office. Draco went after him first, then Pansy, then Blaise, Ron, and Theo. They didn't know where Snape was leading them, but Theodore hoped that wherever they were going, there was a Tobias LeStrange, Neville Longbottom, and Ginny Weasley waiting for them.

They walked through the corridors, and Theodore realized they were heading towards Dumbledore's office. They gargoyle statue was already gone, the spiral staircase now opened to them. The group followed Snape up the steps, stopping at the wooden doors. Snape pushed through, the rest following him.

 _"Tobias!"_ Pansy broke the unending silence. Theodore watched as she ran towards the black- haired Slytherin, her arms wrapping around him, and his doing the same in return.

Theodore saw Neville sitting in a chair, a silver glittering sword in his hand. _Where did he get that from_? But never mind that, Neville was alive. Tobias was alive.

Ron pushed past him. _"Ginny!"_

The red head ran towards his sister, who was surrounded by her parents. Missus Weasley was crying, clutching the Weasley girl even tighter now that Ron had arrived. She hugged them both, kissing their temples.

"Longbottom, you made it!" Theodore said with glee, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

Neville nodded. "Thanks to Tobias, and Professor Snape."

Blaise watched as everyone was involved in their reunions. He was content, now that Ginny was safe. _Well done, LeStrange._ But he could not run to her, he could not console her like Ron did. He had to stand there and watch. He looked over to see that Snape was doing the same. He had not walked over to speak to the Weasley's—or run to LeStrange to make sure he was alright. He looked as detached as Blaise did. Content.

Whatever he had done, he had done it for somebody else. Just like Blaise had done for Ginny.

* * *

Azkaban. Where the worst of worst went when the Ministry had had enough of them. The paint on the walls were peeled, half of the lights had gone out, and it smelled of dead bodies. The guards wore coats because of the dementors, whose very presence made the whole prison feel like Antarctica.

The Aurors guided Lucius inside—claiming that his record had already been processed. Since he would be staying overnight, there was no need to go through Ministry clearance. To his luck, he would only be staying on the first floor, where petty crimes went. He could hear a familiar cackle coming from the top floor.

"Guess promises don't last forever!" He heard his sister-in-law, Bellatrix LeStrange tease.

He ignored her, he ignored them all. He kept looking straight, his blonde hair covering his face. He didn't care to know where they were leading him. They couldn't keep him here long. The Dark Lord would come after him. His most faithful follower—he wouldn't let him rot in Azkaban. Not with the boys growing older.

The Aurors stopped, and Lucius came in contact with two Azkaban guards. Their faces were covered with a black bandana—a tactic to keep the dementors from sucking their soul. They wore big black trench coats, their wands safely tucked away in their belts.

"Everything alright, Magnus?" One of the Aurors asked.

The guard name Magnus grunted.

"Magnus's pissed." The other guard said. "One of the prisoners escaped."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. _Escaped?_

"Who?" The other Auror asked. "Who was it?"

Magnus looked down at Lucius, his facial expression turning into one of disgust. "Not here." He then pulled out a set of keys, opening the cell behind him. The Aurors pushed Lucius inside, watching as the man tumbled to the ground. The other Azkaban guard closed the gate, locking it.

"Enjoy your stay." He spat. "We'll be back to escort you to your trial."

Lucius's smirked. "Charming."

The guards and the Aurors left, and Lucius was left alone. Someone had escaped from Azkaban, but who was it? Was it one of the Dark Lord's forces? Was he planning something else? Breaking out those who were arrested those years ago one by one? His thoughts were interrupted when the shadow of a dog appeared on his cell wall. He blinked, turning to face the cell bars—but nothing was there.

 **Author's Note: This Chapter came quicker than I thought. We're coming to the end everyone, stay tuned! Very Short Chapter, I know, but the next will be longer.**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	37. COS21: Nothing Would Be the Same

Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play

~ Shake It Out x Florence + the Machine

Chapter 37: Nothing Would Be the Same

Books. His office was drowning in them. Law books, magical law books, medical books…the list could go on for ages. He wasn't always like this—head stuck in a book. But ever since the accident, this is where you could find him. Always find him. Every once in a while, he would feel a pang of guilt, an urge to be a better father—a better husband. But he couldn't look at her without seeing those tears in her eyes—the fear on her lips—the trembling of her body. He couldn't look at her without crumbling at the fact that he was the cause of it all.

He couldn't look at his own son, his prince, without seeing that look of anger on his face. The unending question tattooed on his forehead. The questions he never asked, because his father would never answer: Why?

 _Because it's what I had to do._ He would answer in his head, but he knew that was no answer. But what else could you do when the Dark Lord commands you to do something? What else can you do when the world around you slows down and all you can hear is his voice— _do it, Terrell. Do it or she dies._

Nothing has been the same since. Theodore hates him. His marriage had never been the same. Alana understood of course- but Terrell knew part of her hated him for it too. The way she was raised—the muggles taught her that a husband should always protect his wife. But that was before she found out she was pureblood—her whole world changed after that. And nothing has been the same since.

So he hid his pain and those memories in the books—trying to find answers. Trying to find anything that would fix what he broke. Years ago, his father would tell him to be a man—stop hiding and step into the storm. But it was already too big by then—with everything that was going on. The war. The secrets.

Who wouldn't try to run from it all if all you had to do was open a book?

The fireplace roared, and the man closed the book he was reading, looking up to see his new guest.

"Working as always." Tom Riddle said curtly. "I've always wondered where you put in the time to sleep."

Terrell sniffed. "People like us don't get to sleep."

Tom Riddle sat down across from him. "And so you're right." He looked at the files and documents on Terrell's desk. "Any progress with finding our friend?"

"He's alive. But he's been a ghost ever since that confrontation with Black. There have been small sightings of him—mainly by muggles. Reports of a rat turning into a man. You can imagine how fast that was hushed up."

"Insanity charges." The older man nodded.

Terrell sniffed again, turning another page in the portfolio. "But since then nothing. He's been under the radar for the past couple years." He looked up at his master. "Are you sure we need him?"

"He's the only one the Ministry isn't looking for. As long as they think he's dead, he is the best option—we just need to find him first."

Terrell adjusted his reading glasses. "I'm assuming this isn't all you came for."

Tom Riddle sighed. "Lucius has been arrested. Blackmail charges." He then threw a purple portfolio on the table.

"How is it that he's always in trouble?"

"He did what he had to do." The Dark Lord replied, not noticing Terrell tensing across from him. _Because he did what he had to do._ Of course.

"He has a trial with the Wizengamot tomorrow—I need you to defend him."

"You need him for something." The man said, looking through the file. "Otherwise, you would let him rot in Azkaban."

His master intertwined his fingers. "It's time."

"This soon? But the heirs aren't even—"

"There's been some complications at the school. We must do it before the boys turn fifteen—or all will fail."

"I see," Terrell nodded. "And you need Lucius to gather the others."

Tom Riddle nodded. "Precisely."

The head of Nott Manor then looked through Lucius Malfoy's file. Stacks and Stacks of documents—newspaper clippings. All of them from the war—muggle disappearances, houses burned down, countless amount of deaths. He guessed they were all lucky it was just blackmail this time.

"It won't be easy," The man said, looking over his spectacles. "They gave him a pass last time—they won't be able to look over certain events this time."

"Then you make them." Tom Riddle said bluntly. "I don't think I should have to remind you of what would happen if you fail, do I?"

Terrell felt his throat go dry, but his face wouldn't show his expression. He looked into those heartless eyes of Lord Voldemort—trying hard to separate them from his own. When did he become the bad guy and the victim at the same time?

"What time is his trial?"

Riddle nodded. "Eight o' clock." He then got up, grabbing his cane. The man noticed that his master looked weaker—worse than he had a year ago. It was time. He watched as the Dark Lord floo'd out of his office. Turning to face the windows behind him, Terrell not came face to face with the darkness—it was starting again. Lucius—the trials—the secrets.

His eyes then left the window, onto a portrait in the center of the room. It wasn't the traditional pureblood family portrait—Alana's idea. They were all smiling—a time when the days were brighter, when you could sleep without wondering if the Ministry was going to burst into your home and take you away. Or if Aurors would ambush you during family dinner. Theodore looked the happiest—and so did Terrell. If he must be honest, he was.

But now, nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

Tobias had never been so happy to see his friends in his life. He clung onto Pansy, as she clung onto him, despite the slime and blood his shirt was covered in. Draco stood beside him, his arm on his shoulder—his grip tighter than ever. Tobias looked over Pansy's shoulder to see Ginny and Ron being hugged by their mother. Mr. Weasley looked relieved and worried at the same time. He turned to look at Blaise, who hadn't moved since he stepped inside.

"Ahem."

The reunion was broken by the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice.

"As much as I love reunions," she said. "Mister LeStrange was just in the middle of telling us how he and Mister Longbottom saved Miss Weasley."

Blaise spoke for the first time since they walked in. "So why are we here?"

"Professor Snape believed that the full story could not be told without the rest. So here we are." She then looked at Tobias. "You may continue Mister LeStrange."

Tobias took a deep breath. Speaking slowly, he told them everything—well, everything relating to him _._ The voices. Hermione and how she figured out it was a basilisk. Aragog and Moaning Myrtle—how her bathroom was the entrance to the chamber. He was avoiding speaking about the diary—or how Ginny was involved. Every now and then he would glance over at her—her head on her mother's shoulder, tears still falling down her cheeks. He knew what she was afraid of—what if they expelled her?

In the midst of his speech, Theodore raised his hand. Everyone looked at him, hoping that he wouldn't bring up the diary.

"Yes, Mister Nott." Professor McGonagall addressed him.

"I would just like to say," Theodore started. "The school owes us, me personally, an apology for all the emotional distress we were put under."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Emotional distress?"

Theodore opened his mouth to explain, but Neville clapped a hand over his mouth. Theodore frowned, his eyes narrowing, but he did not fight against Neville's hand.

"I guess that is something we will discuss later—" Professor McGonagall said.

"—or not—" Draco growled, glaring at the brown- haired Slytherin.

"But back to the story," the professor continued. "you all found where the entrance was—breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add—but how on _earth_ did you all get out of there alive, Mister LeStrange?"

"Well, that's easy." Neville spoke this time, releasing Theo's mouth and grabbing the silver sword. "We used this—" Fawkes then perched himself on his shoulder. "—and Fawkes."

Neville went on to tell about the battle— how Fawkes blinded the basilisk. How he somehow summoned the sword from the sorting hat and how ultimately, it was Tobias who stuck the giant serpent with the weapon, killing it. Tobias noticed he was doing his best to avoid the parts about Ginny and the diary. But his heart began to race as both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall gave the two boys puzzled looks.

"You welded the sword, Mister LeStrange?" asked McGonagall.

Tobias nodded.

"But that's impossible—a Gryffindor is able to summon the sword, which explains Longbottom's case, but only a _true_ Gryffindor would be able to wield the sword—yet using it so profoundly to kill a beast such as a basilisk."

There was a silence, and Tobias felt his world spinning once more. He remembered what the sorting hat said—that he could've been in Gryffindor or Slytherin. Did wielding the sword of Gryffindor not make him a true Slytherin?

His thoughts were interrupted as a band of green flames arose from the fireplace. The professors quickly drew their wands, as well as the Weasleys. The second years and Ginny froze in their spots—it was three o' clock in the morning—who could be floo'ing into Dumbledore's office at this hour?

"That is a very peculiar situation, Minerva," a familiar voice said, causing the adults to lower their wands. "But what interests _me_ most, is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, without stepping inside the castle."

Dumbledore then stepped out of the fireplace, his robes free of any dirt and soot. Tobias and Neville felt a strange relief rush over them—seeing as they weren't the ones to break the news to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that their daughter was possessed by the Dark Lord himself. But Tobias felt a sick feeling also rise in his stomach as Dumbledore said the words "Lord Voldemort."

"Dumbledore!" McGonagall breathed out. "I thought you weren't supposed to return until morning."

The headmaster chuckled. "Correct. Yet, I never stated what time in the morning I would return." He then winked at Tobias—a gesture meaning that he would take it from here.

Mr. Weasley looked horrified. "W-what's that? _Voldemort?_ En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not…Ginny hasn't been…has she?"

"It was the diary." Tobias said, pointing to the damaged leather book upon Dumbledore's desk. "My grandfather…" He swallowed, his heart pounding as he was about to reveal his deepest darkest secret. "Tom Riddle, wrote in it when he was sixteen…"

Ron gave Tobias a confused look. Tom Riddle was Tobias's grandfather—he wouldn't hurt Ginny? Would he? He then looked back at his sister, who was now trembling again, the tears reforming in her eyes.

"Brilliant." Dumbledore breathed out. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He then turned towards the Weasleys, who were as confused as they were upset.

"I believe I have served an injustice to my friends—keeping the real identity of Lord Voldemort a secret. Only a few know—such as Severus and Minerva. It is true that Lord Voldemort opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago—but it was under a different name. Tom Riddle."

Ron felt the realization crash into his stomach. Tom Riddle was Voldemort? The Lord Voldemort? Who his parents fought against during the wizarding war? The Lord Voldemort who destroyed and murdered everything in his way. The stories of him were chilling—they used to give Ron nightmares. But that wasn't what shocked him the most. Tom Riddle was Tobias's grandfather. Tobias LeStrange was Lord Voldemort's grandson.

"No one ever connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy. Many thought Tom Riddle dead—after Hogwarts, he disappeared—traveling all over the world, studying the depths of the Dark Arts. He had gone under so many magical, and dangerous, transformations, by the time he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort—no one recognized him. An advantage he has been living on for many years."

"But, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said. "What's our Ginny got to do—with—with— _him_?"

Dumbledore looked at the woman, his eyes soft and sympathetic. "It seems that our year-long mystery has been solved, Molly. Ginny—"

"It was me!" Ginny interrupted, breaking into a sob. "His d-diary. I've b- been writing in it, and he's been writing back all year—"

" _Ginny!_ " Mr. Weasley roared. "Haven't I taught you _anything_? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain._ Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic—"

"Hey!" Draco shouted, appalled at how Mr. Weasley reacted to the news. Couldn't he see that Ginny was already upset about what she had done? "She didn't know he was going to do that to her!"

Mr. Weasley snapped his head up, storming towards the blonde Slytherin. "But _you_ knew, didn't you? Is that why your father came and got Dumbledore suspended—was it you who gave it to her?!"

"It wasn't him, dad." Sobbed Ginny. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th—thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—I d-didn't know!"

Dumbledore stepped up, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. The blonde Slytherin was now shaking with anger. He didn't care that Ron was his friend—how dare this man accuse him of harming his daughter?! He helped save her!

"Arthur, Ginny needs to be taken to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment." His words were now directed towards Ginny. "Older and Wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He then walked through the door, opening it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up. You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice—I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment."

Draco's mood perked up then. "So Hermione's okay!"

Dumbledore nodded, still looking at the red haired girl. "There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny."

The girl nodded, slowly walking out of the headmaster's office. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley right behind her—both parents still tense from their newest discoveries.

The headmaster then turned to Snape and McGonagall. "I think it would be wise to notify Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick of our news. And to let the students know that Hogwarts will indeed be staying open."

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. "I'll leave you to deal with this lot, shall I?"

"Certainly."

The boys watched Professor McGonagall leave, and then Professor Snape, who really hadn't said much since everyone entered the room. Dumbledore looked upon the group of second years—Tobias LeStrange, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, and surprisingly, Blaise Zabini. He could see the uncertainty in their eyes—the fear of what was to come.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Theodore said, giving him a half- smile.

Dumbledore looked at them firmly. "Well, I seem to remember telling you, Mister Weasley, and Mister LeStrange that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules."

Ron's mouth dropped opened.

"That's hardly fair," Theodore spoke again. "Ginny set a basilisk loose and she's getting hot chocolate!"

"Which goes to show," Dumbledore continued, smiling. "that the best of us must sometimes eat our words. You will all receive Special Awards for Services to the School, including you Miss Parkinson, and—let me see—yes, I think two hundred points for Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"And an apology from the school." Theo huffed.

"Of course, of course." He then paused, looking towards Lockhart, who hadn't said a word since Snape came to retrieve the rest from his office. "But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure."

Ron went red. "Uhhh professor—there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets, Professor Lockhart—"

"Who said my name?" The man said quickly, smiling absently. He looked towards Dumbledore. "Are you a professor, too?" He chuckled. "I wasn't a very good one. My friend, Dra-co, said I wasn't."

Draco scratched his head, he hadn't been expecting Lockhart to repeat that. He cleared his throat. "He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired." He shrugged. "Thought I would have a little fun."

"Dear me," The headmaster shook his head. "Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!"

Lockhart frowned. "Sword? Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though." He pointed towards Neville. "He'll lend you one."

"I think Professor Lockhart needs to be taken to the infirmary, as well. Mister Malfoy, if you and the rest wouldn't mind, I would like you to escort him there." He then looked at Tobias and Neville. "I'd like a few more words with Mister LeStrange and Mister Longbottom…"

Draco got up, escorting Lockhart out of the office. Theodore and Ron went behind him, Theodore rambling about getting some hot chocolate. Blaise trailed behind them, his hands in his pockets. Pansy went next, but stopped at the door, casting a curious look back at Dumbledore and Tobias before she closed the door, leaving the three alone.

Tobias felt his hands sweating again. Neville didn't know what to do—this was his second time being in Dumbledore's office.

"Sit down, both of you."

The two boys walked to the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk. They sat down slowly, both avoiding the old wizard's eyes.

"First of all, I want to thank you both," Dumbledore said, and Tobias looked up, and noticed his eyes were once again twinkling. "Neville, you must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."

"And Tobias," He continued. "So you met your grandfather's sixteen-year-old self. I imagine he was _most_ interested in you…"

Tobias nodded. It wasn't strange that the young Tom Riddle was eager to meet his grandson. It was strange in how _eager_ he actually was. He called him the "Chosen One" and kept referring to some "prophecy." He even involved Neville, calling them both the "boys of July." What did all that mean?

"Professor Dumbledore…" said Neville. "…Riddle kept saying something about a prophecy…he kept calling Tobias the 'Chosen One.'"

"Did he now?" The headmaster responded. He hadn't expected Neville to be involved in the confrontation with Tom Riddle. If Riddle had referred to the prophecy, his targets were now both boys—and while he thought killing both boys would fulfill it, Tobias would've survived and Neville would've died. An interesting confrontation that must've been.

"What is the prophecy?" Tobias asked. "And what does it have to do with me and Neville?"

Dumbledore stared hard at the boys. Right now he had to make a decision—he knew they weren't ready, but Riddle had already exposed them to it.

"There is a prophecy, that a boy born at the end of July would destroy Lord Voldemort. You two, among many others, were candidates."

Neville straightened himself up. "So it wasn't actually _about_ us?"

"No." Dumbledore shook his head. "Riddle was aware that you two were born in July, making you targets because of the said prophecy."

Tobias frowned. "But that doesn't explain why he kept calling me 'The Chosen One.'"

Dumbledore clasped his hands together. "Well, that is another situation. Many do not know, but Lord Voldemort had a son, his true heir. Yet, you, his grandson, was chosen to be the Heir of the Dark Lord."

"A son?" Tobias said softly. "He never told me he had a son."

"He doesn't speak of him. No one knows where he is. If I am correct, Mister LeStrange, he should be a year older than you."

Tobias was silent for a moment. So many things were happening at one time. There was a prophecy, about a boy who would destroy his Grandfather. His Grandfather also had a son—a son who was supposed to be the true Heir of the Dark Lord. So why was he chosen?

"But why—why did he chose me? And not his son?"

 _Because you are the boy who is meant to destroy Lord Voldemort._ But Dumbledore could not say this. Not now—it was too risky. Tobias wouldn't understand—no doubt he would try to prevent the prophecy from occurring.

"That is a question I cannot answer." He finally said. "But I will say that your Grandfather is a great judge of character. He must have seen something in you, Tobias, that he didn't see in his son. And that maybe why you were chosen."

The headmaster's words popped another question in Tobias's head. What did his grandfather see? Did he see what the sorting hat saw— _Many traits of a Slytherin. But many traits of a Gryffindor as well_ — or what Hermione saw when they first met? _You don't look like a Slytherin._ Why was he chosen? When he could've been put in Gryffindor, instead of Slytherin?

"There's one more thing." Tobias blurted out.

Dumbledore raised his brow. "Yes, Mister LeStrange?"

"When I was being sorted, the sorting hat told me something. It said I had many traits of a Slytherin, but many traits of a Gryffindor as well. How could my grandfather had picked me to be his heir—if I wasn't a _true_ Slytherin?"

Dumbledore smiled. "And why do you believe you weren't put in Gryffindor?"

"Because," Tobias paused. "I asked to be put in Slytherin."

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, the smile still on his face. "I believe he chose you, Tobias, because you had the courage to choose your destiny—a luxury that most of us do not have. Sometimes we must make choices that others may not like, and _that_ shows what we truly are, despite our abilities."

Tobias nodded. So maybe he was a true Slytherin—because of his choice last year. But there was still one more thing he didn't understand—something that bothered him the most.

"Professor," Neville said. "What's that sword?"

Dumbledore lifted up the silver sword, the ruby encrusted handle shimmering in the firelight. "This, is the sword of Godric Gryffindor." He turned the handle towards the two boys, and Neville gasped in amazement as he read the engraved name. "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of a hat." He winked at Neville.

Tobias frowned again. _Only a true Gryffindor._ It was the same thing McGonagall said. So why was Tobias able to weld it? Why did it fit so perfectly in his hand? Neville may have pulled it out of the sorting hat, but had it come for him? But why would it come for Tobias? A Slytherin? The Heir of the Dark Lord?

"Is there something wrong, Tobias?" Dumbledore asked, clearly observing his facial expression.

Tobias shook his head. "No sir…I'm just…tired. It's been a long night."

"And so it has," Dumbledore agreed. "What you both need, is some sleep. You and Neville are dismissed. I need to write to Azkaban—we need our gamekeeper back. And I have to contact an old friend, too. We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Tobias and Neville got up, walking towards the door. Neville went through first, but Tobias stopped at the doorway. He thought about what Dumbledore said—about choices. And he had a few more decisions he needed to make.

"Professor." He turned around.

The old wizard looked up. "Yes, Mister LeStrange?"

"I was wondering," The boy said uncertainly. "If you could not mention this to my grandfather? About me, Draco, and Theodore being in the chamber. If anybody asks, it was Neville and Ron who saved Ginny."

Dumbledore made no reaction to his request. "Well that would certainly be a mess if anyone knew, now would it? Consider it done. Is there anything else?"

Tobias stood there for a moment, pondering if he needed anything else. He smiled when something came to his mind.

"An apology for Theodore…for his…emotional distress."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course. Anything else?"

The Slytherin boy's smile turned into a smirk this time. "Actually, there is one more thing."

* * *

Lucius stared at Fudge from his position in the middle of the courtroom. He knew that the Minister would not look back. That's how Fudge always was—looking away from the dangers that lurked in the wizarding world. He was the last resort for Minister when he was sworn in—Lord Voldemort had killed the last one. Fudge thought that being Minister of Magic would be an easy job after the war—until the secrets came out, and the trials began, and former Death Eaters demanded work. Funerals after funerals he had to attend. Meetings after meetings he had to organize. Cities he had to rebuild—families he had to put back together. So much work for an incapable man.

Terrell was standing beside him. His black suit was as dark as the atmosphere. Another man who hid from the darkness. Not because he was afraid of it, but because it broke him. The war left many broken men, and Terrell was one of them. His family had been torn apart—his own son couldn't even stand the sight of him. But he stood here, strong—Lucius admired him. Not many men would return to working for the Dark Lord, not after what he made Terrell do to his wife. Lucius shuddered at the thought.

Fudge cleared his throat, stepping up to the podium. "This trial is now in session. Crouch, would you read the details?"

Barty Crouch, another man affected by the war. Lucius chuckled to himself as he thought about his son, Barty Crouch, Jr., one of the many faithful followers of the Dark Lord. Crouch Senior's face was priceless when he found out—when he had to sentence his own son to Azkaban.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you are being charged for threatening Ministry officials and due to a recent review by the Wizengamot, we will be revisiting your crimes from the war. Is your lawyer present?"

Terrell Nott cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. He is. I will be defending Mister Malfoy, today."

Crouch's jaw clenched. "Very well. Shall we begin?"

He flipped another page. "Mister Malfoy," He then held up a red portfolio. "Do you know what this is?"

"A portfolio." Lucius responded.

"Are you aware that you are the _only_ Ministry official who carries these red portfolios?"

The blonde smirked. "Well, what can I say, Crouch? The usual purple gets boring after a while."

"You do know where we got his, don't you Lucius?" The man asked, his anger rising. "You do know that we have looked inside and read the contents?"

"Then, you must've found some interesting information. You Ministry officials aren't so pure after all."

"What are you doing?" Terrell growled out the corner of his mouth.

"Testing the waters." Lucius responded. "Play along."

"And neither are you, Malfoy." Crouch spat back. "Hypocrisy is what it's called. When a man as notorious as you tries to _blackmail_ another man with his wrongs. You've been doing this for a long time—and it's about time it has stopped."

He flipped through more pages, more furious than before. "Nineteen seventy- six, the Russian Ministry. Nineteen seventy- nine, the family of muggles in France. Nineteen eighty—"

"Excuse me, Crouch." Terrell interrupted. "As we would love to revisit Lucius's previous crimes, there are some issues, Ministry related issues- that need to be addressed."

Fudge glared at the man. "Like what, Mister Nott?"

"Like that fact that half of your school governors did You- Know- Who's bidding during the war. Though some testified, claiming they were under the imperious curse, many confessed to the crime- _yet_ they were allowed a job in the Ministry."

The courtroom went silent. Crouch was fuming, and Fudge seemed nervous.

"Willis Mannery, for example, burned the school records of several Death Eaters on You – Know- Who's orders. He confessed to the crime in the Dark Arts Trials of nineteen eighty- three, yet he walked free."

"What is your point?" Crouch retorted. "We all did things we weren't proud of. But our actions do not compare to his!"

"Why?" Terrell shot back. "Because of this mark on his arm? These crimes were not actions of pleasure, but orders from Lord Voldemort himself."

" _Do not say that name!_ " Fudge hissed. "You say it again, and you're out of here, Nott!"

Nott took a deep breath. "My point is—where is Willis's retrial? Why wasn't he thrown in Azkaban? What happened to equal opportunity?"

"He's a _Death Eater_!" Crouch roared.

"He _was_ a Death Eater." Nott corrected him, pulling out another piece of parchment. "According to his document, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy confirmed that he was no longer a member of Lord— _You-Know-Who's_ forces."

"But that doesn't—"

"This is also Lucius's first offense against the Ministry—his first offense in ten years. According to Ministry policy, a Ministry official is given three strikes before termination."

Fudge sighed. "As they may be the case, we cannot let Lucius walk free. You do understand that, don't you Mister Nott?"

Terrell nodded. "I do. Which is why I have composed a compromise."

"Compromise?" Barty Crouch growled.

"Indeed. Lucius will plead guilty, if you allow him to keep his position. He will serve a probation period before returning to work."

Fudge shook his head. "No—we cannot have that kind of behavior for a School Governor."

"Lucius has done more good for the schools than the rest of the governors combined. Do I have to remind you that the muggle attacks at Hogwarts would've remained unknown had Lucius not brought it to your attention, Minister?"

Fudge went silent.

"We all make mistakes." Nott continued. "And sometimes we are blinded by what we want to see in a person, whether than what they are now. Isn't that right, Crouch?"

Barty was now breathing heavily—Lucius smirked at the nerve that Terrell had struck in the man.

"And what if we don't comply?" Fudge asked.

"Then I'll be back, with more information." The brown haired man said promptly. "These aren't the only files I have in my office, Minister."

The minister gulped, finally seeing that he had lost this battle. "No need for that. Crouch, I believe you know the verdict."

Crouch frowned. "In the case of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, we find the defendant guilty. He has been sentenced to three months of Ministry probation, after he will return to his position as school governor."

The grapple was banged and the trial was over. The Aurors freed Lucius, returning him his wand. The first thing Lucius did was change his clothes, returning to his usual black suit. Terrell returned his glasses to his coat pocket, summoning his belongings back into his briefcase.

"You know what this means?" Lucius said to the man. "It's happening again. He's getting ready."

"I'm aware." Terrell responded casually. "Part of the reason why I am here today."

Lucius nodded. "What does he need me to do?"

The other man looked around, making sure no one was listening. He cast a small silencing charm around the area, slowly tucking his wand back into his pocket.

"Gather the others." He said lowly. "You have until your probation is over."

"And the key? Have you found him?"

Terrell closed his briefcase. "He's alive. That's all I know. There's also another thing."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"The ceremony, it's happening."

"So soon? But the boys—they aren't ready."

"Then get them ready."

The brown haired man then left the courtroom. It was true. The boys weren't ready, especially not Theodore. They didn't know what being an heir actually meant yet. They had to _want_ it. Truly want it.

 _Then make him want it. Because it's what you have to do._

* * *

Hermione woke up, squinting her eyes as the light from the window shone through. She put her hands on her face, she could feel her face. She looked at her hands, wiggling her fingers—wiggling her toes. She fluttered her legs. She could move, she wasn't petrified any longer. She hopped out of bed, noticing the other victims were stirring as well. Colin had just put on his cloak, rushing out of the hospital wing. Penelope Clearwater was reading get well cards, sniffling at each one. Justin Finch- Fletchley was writing a letter—probably to his mother to let her know he was alright.

She didn't wait for any further instructions. She grabbed her cloak and rushed out of the hospital wing—she had five boys she needed to see. As she burst out the doors, she could see that everyone was heading towards the great hall—murmurs of a "Great Breakfast Feast." Everyone was in their pajamas, seeming happier than before.

"Did you hear?" A Hufflepuff girl said. "The Weasley girl is safe! She was saved! The monster was killed!"

Hermione smiled brightly at those words. They had done it—they really did it. She ran through the crowd, pushing through students until she made it to the Great Hall. She pushed through the doors, quickly spotting her friends sitting in their usual spot. She had never been so happy to see them.

Ron was stuffing his mouth as usual. Neville had just spilled some pumpkin juice on his robes. Theodore was running his mouth, and Tobias couldn't hold back the laughs he tried to hide. And there was Draco, enjoying it all—but she knew he was waiting for something.

She ran towards them, not caring about the whispers and looks she was getting.

"You solved it!" She screamed. "You solved it!"

"Hermione!" Draco shot up, hugging the bushy- haired witch. She blushed as she hugged him tight.

Theodore hugged her next. "Welcome back, kiddo!"

She hugged Neville next, and then Ron. And lastly, there was Tobias, who was smiling nervously at her.

"Come here, you!" She said, pulling him into a hug. She could tell Tobias was shocked at first, but she smiled when he relaxed against her.

"I forgive you, you know?" She whispered against him. "I know you wouldn't have done all this if you had cared about me being muggle- born."

He hugged her tighter, until Draco cleared his throat. They all sat back at in their seats. The boys told Hermione about their adventures when she was gone. Their conversation was interrupted as Dumbledore stood up at the podium. The Great Hall then went silent.

"I have a few extra points to assign." He said. "But first an announcement from Professor McGonagall."

The witch stood up, walking promptly to the podium. "All exams have been canceled for this year!"

The Great Hall erupted in cheers and whistles. All the boys high fived, laughing as Hermione frowned—an "oh no" leaving her mouth.

"Next," Professor Dumbledore announced. "Professor Lockhart will no longer be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, due to the fact that he has lost his memory."

More claps and cheers.

"Shame." Theodore said, eating a piece of bacon. "He was starting to grow on me."

"Now to the points. To Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley, for outstanding bravery and service to the school, I award Gryffindor fifty points."

The Gryffindor table broke into louder cheers and claps. Neville smiled and Ron went red as everyone stared at them, clapping and whooping.

Draco sipped some of his juice. "I can't believe you told Dumbledore not include us in the Chamber of Secrets incident. We could've gotten Slytherin extra points."

"Don't worry. I've got something better in mind." Tobias said.

"These aren't points," Dumbledore continued. "But I would like to sincerely apologize to Theodore Nott, for the emotional distress that was caused during his conviction as the Heir of Slytherin."

Theodore nodded at the man. "I accept your apology."

"And lastly, to Blaise Zabini."

The whole Great Hall went silent. Blaise Zabini? What was he getting an award for?

"Zabini!" Ron roared. "What is he getting points for?!"

Tobias smirked. "Wait for it."

"For being a manipulative little git," Dumbledore continued. "I subtract Slytherin seventy points."

Draco almost choked on his food. " _Seventy?_ "

"Oh, that's cold." Theodore chuckled.

The whole Slytherin table was now glaring at Zabini, whose face had turned red in embarrassment. The once Slytherin banners now turned to Gryffindor red. Gryffindor had won the house cup.

Tobias laughed. "Now that, I wasn't expecting."

Theodore turned to look at the tan Slytherin, who was now squirming uncomfortably in his seat. "He's so dead."

* * *

"How is he progressing?" Tom Riddle asked.

The muggle man across from him set down his drink. He wasn't exactly happy to see the dark wizard—he had heard the stories about Lord Voldemort. Sometimes they gave him nightmares. He didn't want Atlas to grow up that way—no matter how hard the blood pumped through his veins.

"He's fine." The man grunted.

These visits were always short and quick. Riddle would ask how the boy was doing and then leave. The woman, however, would stay longer. She would talk to Atlas, tell him about a place called Hogwarts. But the man always declined—he didn't need to be exposed to that. He didn't need to be exposed to what created the bastard in front of him.

"How is his magic?" Riddle continued. "Is he controlling it better?"

"If you mean is he performing to your liking, then yes."

The wizard frowned. "It would be wise not to talk to me that way."

"Or you'll what?" The man spat back. "You'll kill me? And take away the only family that boy's ever known?"

"He isn't your family, Demetric." Tom hissed back.

"He isn't yours, either."

A door opened, and a young boy of fourteen stepped out. He had brown hair and green eyes. His mother's eyes. The muggle man stood up as the boy came into view. Tom did not move—he sat there, observing the boy. He had grown into a well- shaped boy. His hair was ruffled and his clothes were loungy—sweatpants and a t- shirt.

"Why didn't you tell me Mister Riddle was here?" The boy asked Demetric.

The man glared back at Tom. "He just arrived. We were talking, Atlas."

Atlas nodded, turning back to look at Riddle. The older man looked different—he was carrying his cane again. He never really said much when he came to visit—he only stared at him. His father told him it was because he was watching over him—to make sure his "power" didn't get out of hand. This wasn't the only wizard that visited him. A woman would come, every once and a while. Professor McGonagall, she called herself. She would tell him about this place called Hogwarts, but his father would never let him go.

Demetric walked towards the door. "I'll leave you two alone." He looked back at Riddle. "You have one minute."

Tom smirked. "More than enough time."

The muggle man left and Tom gestured for the boy to take a seat at the kitchen table. Atlas sat down, his eyes never leaving the older man across from him.

" _Why do you tolerate him?_ " He hissed. " _You hate muggles."_

" _He keeps you safe."_ Tom responded. _"But if it was up to me, you wouldn't be here._ "

 _"Demetric won't let me go. He doesn't want me to end up like you. She doesn't want me to end up like you either._ "

Riddle chuckled. " _They are blind. But your time is coming."_

 _"When?"_

Tom adjusted his tie. _"Soon. For now be patient._ "

" _I've been patient for three years."_ The boy growled back. _"When will you let me accept my destiny?_ "

"Time's up." Demetric had walked back in. "Mister Riddle has to go now, Atlas."

Atlas nodded once more, bidding his goodbye to the dark wizard. Tom Riddle nodded back, standing up to grab his cloak. He walked towards the front door, where Demetric was standing, waiting. As Riddle approached the door, the muggle man stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.

"He will never be you." He said darkly. "I want you to know that."

The older man chuckled, sending chills down the other man's back. "You forget, Demetric. He is my son—my blood runs through his veins. You are _nothing_ to him."

He pushed through the doorway, never looking back at the house. He hated coming here. It was her fault. It was her fault that they were in this predicament. That his son was out of his reach. That he had to tolerate this muggle man. He gritted his teeth as he walked out into the yard, disapperating on the spot.

 **Author's Note: So Voldemort's son! Atlas Riddle. If you weren't aware, the conversation between Atlas and Voldemort was in parseltongue. And Hermione's back! So Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	38. COS22: New and Old Friends

Friends

How many of us have them?

Friends

Ones we can depend on

Friends

How many of us have them?

Friends

Before we go any further, let's be

Friends

~ Friends x Whodini

Chapter 38: New and Old Friends

After the feast, Dumbledore returned to his office. He looked out the window—another year gone. The days were getting darker, slowly but surely. The secrets were starting again—the lying. It wasn't just the dark side that had their flaws. Never would he thought he would have to lie to a child. Never did he think he would have to allow the most dangerous wizard on Earth raise the savior of them all. Everything was starting to feel like it did those many years ago—yet so many people chose to ignore it.

"So!" said a voice, followed by the sound of a door bursting opened.

The old wizard turned around, coming face-to-face with Lucius Malfoy. The blonde man was fuming and by his side was his house elf, Dobby, along with Draco. The elf held his head and shame, cowering behind his master. Draco, however, looked as furious as his father—for what reason, Dumbledore did not know.

"You've come back." Lucius spat. "The governors suspend you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore smiled at the man. "Good evening, Lucius. I see your trial with the Wizengamot went well."

"Trial?" The man scoffed. "That hardly seems to be any of your business."

"Correct you are, Lucius. But you see, the other eleven governors contacted me today. Word got around that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been taken down into the Chamber or Secrets and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job—Fudge even agreed."

Lucius went red, but Dumbledore didn't react to his anger.

"Very strange tales they told me, too…stories of red portfolios, several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

The blonde man went pale, his body tensing. Draco looked worse—his father had blackmailed the school governors into suspending Dumbledore. But why? Didn't he realize the school would be in danger without the headmaster there?

"So—have you stopped the attacks yet?" His father sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed we have."

" _Well?_ Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius." The headmaster then threw the damaged diary on his desk, watching as Malfoy Senior went even paler at the sight of it. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

Draco had a strong feeling that his father had something to do with this—the way he paled at the sight of the diary. It was the same as Ginny's, though he hid it better than she. His feelings were confirmed when he felt a slight tug on his robes. He looked down to notice it was Dobby, who kept pointing from the diary to Lucius.

"I see…" The blonde man said slowly.

Dumbledore smiled once more. "A clever plan, I must say. Because if Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley hadn't discovered this book, why—Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…"

Draco watched as his father stood there, frozen-like. His face had returned to its usual sophisticated gesture, but the blonde Slytherin knew better. Dumbledore had figured him out.

"And imagine, what might have happened then…The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle- borns…Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

Lucius sniffed. "Very fortunate, indeed."

Dumbledore was still smiling. "But what's interesting, Lucius, is how you were able to slip the diary inside Ginny Weasley's cauldron at Flourish and Blotts."

The blonde man went pale once more, his hands tightening around his cane. "I did no such thing. And if that was true, there is no proof."

"Correct you are again, Lucius. But I would advise you not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…or even worse, you may even endanger the life of your own son."

Draco jumped as his father grabbed the back of his robe, clenching the fabric tight.

"No situation of that nature will occur," Lucius sneered. "Because Draco will no longer be attending Hogwarts."

The blonde Slytherin felt his heart drop, and by the way the headmaster looked at him, he might've heard it. Leave Hogwarts? _No!_ He didn't want to leave. All his friends were here—Hermione was here.

"I meant what I said, Dumbledore," His father continued. "You aren't fit to lead this school and my son will not be a victim of your poor leadership."

Dumbledore's face did not falter, and for a moment, Draco believed that the old wizard was actually going to let his father take him from Hogwarts.

"As that may be, the other school governors have voted otherwise. The attacks have stopped. All the victims and Miss Weasley are safe. There is no reason to take him, Lucius."

The headmaster then looked at Draco, whose stomach was churning—afraid of what was to come next.

"But it doesn't matter what we think. The decision solely depends on Draco—this is _his_ education, after all. Wouldn't you agree, Lucius? That the children come first?"

Lucius Malfoy looked hard at his son, and Draco tried hard not to show how bad he wanted to stay at the wizard school. He didn't want to disappoint him, but at the same time, he didn't care how his father felt. He was the reason they were all in this situation in the first place.

His father's face went stony. "Draco, would you like to stay at Hogwarts?"

The question was simple. _Yes or No, Draco._ But the blonde Slytherin could find the words to say either. It was so simple, yet so complicated.

"I agree with you father," Draco started, causing the man's face to relax a little. "that staying at Hogwarts may endanger my life, but I cannot ignore the fact that the educational curriculum at Hogwarts has done me a great service so far. And for that reason, I wish to stay."

He turned back to look at Dumbledore, who was smiling at him.

"Spoken like a true Slytherin." The headmaster said. "Well, there you have it Lucius."

The blonde man sighed, seeing as he had lost this battle. For a moment, he believed his son was about to side with Dumbledore, but he remembered the sole purpose of why the Dark Lord even allowed the heirs to attend the school. He returned his stare back to the old wizard.

"And so it is." He said promptly. "We're going, Dobby!" He then faced his son one last time. "I will see you at home tomorrow, Draco."

Lucius Malfoy then spun on his heel and walked out of the headmaster's office, Dobby at his heels. As the door opened, Draco flinched at the sound of Dobby's squealing—his father had kicked him through the door. Even as his father continued down the corridor, he could still hear the house elf's pained squeals.

Draco then snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Professor, may I return my father his diary?"

"Certainly, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore responded. He then handed the blonde Slytherin the damaged leather book. As soon as it touched Draco's hand, the boy sprinted out of the office, heading down the corridor to catch up with his father before it was too late.

"Father!" He breathed out, catching up to Malfoy Senior. "Dumbledore wanted me to give you this—"

He handed his father the diary, Lucius also giving the book a strange look. "What for— _oh goodness_ —what is that awful smell?"

He opened the book, revealing a smelly sock. He frowned, throwing the sock aside. "If this is Dumbledore's idea of a joke—come on, Dobby." He started walking again- the diary gripped in his hand, but stopped again, as he didn't hear the small patter of footsteps behind him. He narrowed his eyes at the elf.

"I said, _come._ "

Dobby ignored him, and Draco soon figured out why. The small house elf stood with the dirty sock in his hand, eyeing it as if it was the best Christmas present ever.

"Master has given a sock," He said softly. "Master gave it to Dobby."

Lucius took a step closer. "What's that? What did you say?"

"Got a sock," The house elf replied, holding up the blue and white stripped sock. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby—Dobby is _free._ "

Draco had to suppress the smile that threatened to form on his face. He didn't care that Dobby was no longer their house elf—he was glad that his father would no longer be able to hurt him. This was better than waiting until he was fifteen to claim Dobby as his own, vowing to treat him better. Dobby was now free.

"I've had it!" His father roared, yelling down the corridor. "Mark my words, Dumbledore—you will regret this! You and the rest of your forces will all meet the same sticky end!"

Dobby then stepped forward, his face in a deep frown and his finger pointed at Lucius.

"You will not harm Dumbledore and his friends. You shall go now." His voice was lower than Draco had ever heard it. It was scary. "Leave."

Lucius Malfoy whipped out his wand. "You dare talk to your superior that way? _Cru—_ "

There was a snap and then a loud bang. Draco watched as his father was thrown backwards down the corridor, tumbling down a few steps along the way. Draco snickered to himself before running to his father's rescue. He helped Lucius up, coming face-to-face with Dobby once more. Lucius growled at the elf, before spinning on his heel once more, exiting the corridor.

Draco turned to the elf, who was still holding the blue and white stripped sock in his hand.

"You're free now Dobby." Draco said smiling.

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Dobby is now a free elf. Thanks to Draco Malfoy."

"No, no." Draco shook his head. "That's from Dumbledore. Not me."

The elf laughed. "No, no. Dobby has done Sir Malfoy's laundry for a very long time. Dobby knows that Sir Malfoy always wears blue and white stripped socks."

The blonde Slytherin smiled again. "Well, yes that is true, but just promise me this Dobby—"

"Dobby will not tell Master Malfoy about this." The elf then raised a finger to his lips. "Dobby would never betray his friend, Draco Malfoy."

Draco nodded, holding a hand out for the elf to shake. Dobby took it eagerly, shaking Draco's hand excitedly—this was his first time ever shaking anyone's hand. Draco ruffled Dobby's ears before turning to leave the corridor. He wanted to enjoy his last day of school before the train came in the morning.

* * *

Tobias was in his room, packing the rest of his things. As he folded his sweaters, his mind was somewhere else. All this time he thought he was the only true heir of Voldemort, but his grandfather had a son. A son he never knew about. The _real_ true heir of the Dark Lord.

There was also a prophecy, about a boy born at the end of July. A boy that would destroy his grandfather. And for some reason, the younger Tom Riddle believed it was him and Neville. Why would Tobias want to kill Lord Voldemort? Neville may have his reasons, now that he knew who Tom Riddle really was, but would Neville really do it? Would Neville, his friend, take away the only family Tobias had ever known?

"Another day, another escape from death." Theodore said, breaking into Tobias's thoughts. He held up his dirty shirt from the Chamber of Secrets. "I'm never washing this."

Tobias frowned. "Why?"

"Souvenir." The boy responded. "I have a piece of the chess board from our Philosopher's Stone incident last year."

The door opened, and Draco walked through. He looked upset, the way he didn't bother to look at the other two Slytherins in the room. This assumption was confirmed when the blonde Slytherin plopped on his bed, muffling a scream into his pillow.

"What's wrong with the royal prat of Malfoy?" Tobias teased.

"Nothing." The boy snapped back. "Unless you include my arsehole of a father, then many things are wrong."

Theodore set down his shirt. "What happened?"

"He wanted me to leave Hogwarts." He groaned, sitting up to face his cousin. "And he's the one who gave Ginny the diary. I know you knew about it, too—secretive bastard."

The black- haired Slytherin sniffed. "It was more of an assumption than actually knowing."

"Prat."

Theodore closed his trunk. "So let me get this straight. Your father gave Ginny the diary, endangered the school, got Dumbledore suspended, endangered the school even more, then tried to _remove_ you from it?"

"Yes." Said Draco.

"Is he on drugs?"

"Theo!"

The boy shrugged. "I'm just saying. That's completely mental." Theo then held up his finger. "Isn't that right Francis?"

"Francis?" Tobias raised his eyebrow. "You still have that beetle?"

" _Yes_!" Theodore said defensively. "What did you think I was going to do with him?"

Draco scratched his neck. "I honestly thought he died."

"And why would you think that?"

"It's a beetle, Theo." Tobias argued. "Eventually it was going to die or run away."

"That's if you don't take care of it." Theodore shot back, raising a finger in protest. "Francis has been living off smushed vegetables and very, very small bread crumbs since the beginning of the school year."

Draco laughed. "You did all that for a bug?"

"He's not just a _bug_. He's Francis. My beetle friend."

"Theo," Tobias laughed. "It's just a bug."

"You two have no compassion for animals."

* * *

The next morning on the train, Ginny sat in her compartment alone. Word spread quickly that she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. The reactions to this news was different with every house. The Slytherins seemed to oddly respect her; The Hufflepuffs were forgiving but none them stayed long to chat; The Ravenclaws, except Luna, never paid much attention to her anyway, and probably never would now they knew she was the reason their Prefect was petrified. The Gryffindors, however, treated her as if she had never done the bidding of Tom Riddle. That she was grateful for, but she knew things were going to awkward.

Who would want to be friends with the girl who set a giant snake on the loose in Hogwarts? Who petrified one of her own friends and many more? Everyone knew her name now. Ginny Weasley, the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She closed her eyes as she laid her head against the seat—she needed a break.

There was a knock, and the red-haired girl opened her eyes again. She turned her head, finding a smirking Blaise Zabini standing in the compartment doorway.

"Well, if it isn't the famous Ginny Weasley." He teased.

The girl narrowed her eyes. "Blaise Zabini, the manipulative little git."

"Touché'." He then looked around the compartment. "Mind if I sit?"

The girl shrugged. "Sure."

Blaise stepped inside the compartment, sitting across from the Gryffindor. She didn't know it, but his heart was beating ten times faster than usual and he felt like he was sweating bullets. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. He loved her red hair, her brown eyes. He barely even knew her, and he would do anything for her. Stepping inside the Chamber of Secrets with his worst enemies was proof.

"I have a question." Ginny said, and Blaise felt his heart drop.

He dusted off his trousers. "Ask away."

"You hate my brother and my brother hates you, right?"

"I wouldn't say hate." Blaise answered. "There's nothing to really hate about your brother. No offense-"

Ginny laughed. "None taken."

"—but yes, I'm not particularly fond of him."

The girl nodded, but Blaise knew that wasn't her only question. He could see it in her face that she was pondering something else.

"So why did you help them come save me?"

"The school was about to close," The boy shrugged, sticking to the same answer he told LeStrange and the rest.

Ginny frowned. "You don't honestly think I'm that thick, do you?"

"Well," Blaise said promptly, smirking once more. "You did allow You-Know-Who to trick you into opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"Touché."

Blaise laid down on the compartment seat, the flats of his shoes pressed against the train wall.

"Okay, another question." Ginny spoke again. "How did you even know that I was down there?"

"Rule number one," said the tan Slytherin. "I know everything."

The girl smirked. "So you're a creepy, eavesdropping manipulative little git?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

"You sound like Theodore Nott."

Blaise frowned. "I'd rather be an eavesdropping, manipulative little git."

The Gryffindor laughed. "Don't forget creepy."

"Yes, I suppose." Blaise chuckled. He put his hands behind his head. "But I have a question for you, Miss Wealsey."

"And that is?"

The Slytherin then sat up. "Why are you sitting here—alone- while all your friends are sitting in a compartment at the front of the train?"

The girl went silent then, and Blaise knew he asked a sensitive question. He frowned.

"You don't have to answer. I didn't—"

"No, it's fine." Ginny said softly. "I just wanted to be alone. People don't think I notice, but I'm being treated differently. Everyone just sees me now as the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. My brothers treat me like I'm fragile."

Blaise smiled softly. "I wouldn't treat you differently."

"Easy for you to say. The Slytherin house basically loves me now."

"That's not what I meant." the Slytherin laughed. "I mean, if you got trapped in another Chamber, I'd come to save you. Every time, no matter what you did before."

"Why?"

"Well, one," Blaise held up a finger. "We're both one in the same. The infamous duo. Ginny Weasley, releaser of the Basilisk and Blaise Zabini, Hogwarts's manipulative little git."

Ginny smiled a little. "And two?"

"And two, friends never turn their backs on friends."

"So we're friends now?" Ginny said as she crossed her arms.

"Is there a problem with that?" The Slytherin smirked.

"Well, one," Ginny held up a finger, mocking Blaise. "My brother hates you. Two, your worst enemy has a crush on me. Three, I'm a Gryffindor, you're a Slytherin—"

Blaise crossed his arms. "That one doesn't count. Granger and Malfoy—"

"-and four, I'm a Weasley, and you're a Zabini."

Blaise frowned, seeing as she stated good reasons for why they couldn't be friends. Things would get complicated—they couldn't be as opened as Granger and Malfoy.

"So that's a 'no'?" He said, defeated.

"Are you kidding?" Ginny smirked deviously, which made Blaise extremely uncomfortable. "I think it's a wonderful idea."

* * *

At the front of the train, the six friends were reunited in their train compartment. Hermione sat in the middle of Draco and Neville, while Theodore, Ron, and Tobias sat on the other side. Neville and Tobias had just finished telling her about their discussion with Dumbledore the night before.

"So, just so we're clear." Hermione started, holding her fingers to her temple. "Lord Voldemort is Tobias's grandfather, meaning that you three are the heirs of Lord Voldemort. He also has a son that Tobias doesn't know about. And there's a prophecy about a boy born at the end of July who is meant to destroy him?"

The three heirs stared at each other before staring back at her. "Yes." They said in unison.

"Why does this always happen when I'm not around?"

Theodore shrugged. "Stick around more often."

"I was _petrified!_ "

"Which could have been avoided." Theo argued back.

She bushy- haired Gryffindor ignored him. "So what do you think Tobias?"

"About you being petrified?" He the boy asked, confused.

"About your grandfather having a son!"

Tobias scratched the back of his neck. "Oh yeah, _that_. Well, I was just going to—I was thinking that-"

"No." Draco shook his head.

"You don't even know what I'm about to say!"

The blonde Slytherin crossed his arms. "You want to go find him. Voldemort's son."

" _What_!" Hermione screeched. "Tobias, no. You heard Dumbledore, no one knows where he is. There could be a reason that your grandfather didn't tell you."

Ron frowned as well, looking towards Draco. "How did you even figured that out?"

"Body language." Draco shrugged.

Theodore nodded. "Observation one-o-one." Tobias nodded in agreement.

" _That doesn't matter_." Hermione said through gritted teeth, shooting a hard look at Draco, who cowered under her. "What matters is that there is a better way to find out who Voldemort's son is, instead of going out looking for a ghost. What about school?"

"Well seeing as we don't have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Theodore said. "School is the least of my worries."

"Dumbledore said he was contacting an old friend, to teach us." Neville said.

Draco snorted. "I hope it isn't another bloke like Lockhart."

Theo slapped his hands to his face. "What if it's a _werewolf_?"

"Theo, why would Dumbledore hire a werewolf to teach us?" asked Tobias.

"Are we really asking that question?"

Hermione groaned, banging her head on the back of the seat. "Why can't we ever have a decent conversation?"

"We usually only have those when we're about to die or someone else is about to die." Draco answered.

Ron nodded. "Pretty much."

"But in other news," Theodore said cheerfully, moving his feet to sit crisscross on the seat. "I found out Percy's little secret."

"How?" asked Neville.

Theodore smiled dropped. "My betrothed is the biggest gossiper in school. I literally know everything—even when I don't want to."

Ron waved his had irritably. "Yeah, yeah. But what's Percy's secret?"

"Percy has a _girlfriend._ "

Draco's mouth fell opened. " _What?_ Who?"

"The Ravenclaw prefect." Theo continued. "Word is Ginny caught them kissing in an empty classroom. Now it makes sense why he was so upset when she got petrified."

Draco was still frowning. "I'm still stuck on the part where Percy has a girlfriend."

"Me too." Neville said. "Are we talking about the same Percy?"

Ron snapped his head at the two. "Why is it so hard to believe my brother has a girlfriend?"

"Ron," said Tobias. "It's Percy."

"Touché'."

* * *

That night, Remus Lupin was standing on the balcony of his apartment in Muggle London. This was the safest place for him. He didn't have a job and he had no muggle friends, so there was no issue when it came to running away to the woods when his "condition" came up. It was the perfect life for a werewolf.

But that would all end today.

He held the letter from Dumbledore in his hand. They had caught the culprit behind the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny Weasley. That part threw him for a loop—Arthur and Molly must've been crushed. But what shocked him the most was the fact that Dumbledore asked him to come teach at Hogwarts. As the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He would've easily accepted, had not Quirrell died a year ago and now Lockhart was suffering from irreparable memory loss.

But on the other hand, this was his chance to really return to the wizarding world. To have an actual job—to be the Remus Lupin he strived to be when he was Hogwarts. He always wanted to be a teacher, but with his condition— after James, Sirius, and Peter—he gave up on it. He looked up at the starry night sky—he closed his eyes, breathing in the fresh air of London.

His eyes snapped opened, a sound coming from the kitchen. The slight clinking of a glass—an advantage of being a werewolf, super- hearing. He whipped out his wand, stepping slowly back into his apartment. Nobody knew he stayed here—only Dumbledore. He perked up his ears, his nostrils opened for a smell. He caught one, a familiar one—but no it couldn't be.

He snapped his head towards the dark hallway, which was barely lit by the moonlight outside. Someone had just walked by—no, _something_ just walked by. He stepped lightly, his wand still at ready. He walked into the next room, the living area. There was no smell of smoke, so the floo hadn't been used. The smell was getting stronger. He shook his head. _No. It can't be._ His nose was playing tricks on him. Like it always did, when he missed them.

He stopped, seeing a pair of black boots hanging off his sofa. Whoever it was, seemed comfortable breaking into his home. Who could be so cocky? This gesture reminded him of someone—but he wiped that feeling from his mind. Whoever this was, they would regret it.

He stepped slowly around the sofa, where the intruder couldn't see him. His breath caught as he saw that black hair—that familiar black messy hair. He seemed frozen as his eyes met those familiar gray ones. He had more tattoos—if that even was him. And he was skinner that he was before—those 12 years before.

"What's the matter, Moony?" The intruder said, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

 **Author's Note: Super short chapter, but hey, the Chamber of Secrets is done. The original plot belongs to the one and only J.K. Rowling, and all changes and additions belong to yours truly. I want to thank all my wonderful followers who have stuck with me since the beginning, and all the ones who joined along the way. You guys keep me going! Prisoner of Azkaban will be coming soon! So stay tuned.**

 **Oh yeah! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	39. POA1: The Runaways

Headin' into twilight

Spreadin' out her wings tonight

She got you jumpin' off the track

And shovin' into overdrive

Highway to the danger zone

~ Danger Zone x Kenny Loggins

Chapter 39: The Runaways

 **BLACK STILL AT LARGE**

 _Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

 _"We are doing all we can to recapture Black, said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

 _Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

 _"Well, really, I had to, don't you know." Said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it—who'd believe if he did?"_

 _While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a king of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse._

Sirius threw the paper onto Lupin's coffee table. "Twelve years and I'm still the most dangerous wizard known to man." He threw his hands in the air. "It's like they completely forgot that Voldemort is still _alive._ "

"Maybe if you hadn't murdered thirteen people—" Lupin said under his breath.

"That wasn't me!" The man yelled back. "How many times do I have to say it?"

Lupin turned around, holding a bottle of firewhiskey. "Enough times until I can get a hand on a vial of Veritaserum." He said lightly.

"Remus," Sirus rolled his eyes. "Out of all people, you know me best—"

"I do know you best. And I know how angry you were when you found out Peter betrayed James and Lily and sold them to Voldemort."

"I was trying to kill the _rat_ , Moony! And I get thrown in Azkaban for twelve years and guess what—turns out I _didn't_ kill him!"

Lupin narrowed his eyes at the ex- prisoner. "So what happened? Who killed the muggles? Where's Peter?"

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to know?!" Sirius argued back. "He scampered away as soon as the damn Aurors showed up."

"He _died,_ Sirius."

"Then where is his body? Was there a funeral, I didn't see one in the papers!" He then grabbed the throw copy of the _Daily Prophet_ , waving it irritably in the air.

This time Lupin rolled his eyes. "Same old, Padfoot."

"I'm not crazy!" Sirius frowned. "I mean, yeah, I've been living in hell for the past twelve fucking years, but I still have my sanity."

"But now you're here, on my couch. And you still haven't told me how you escaped and why."

Sirius shrugged. "You never asked."

"And how was I supposed to start that conversation? 'Oh hey Sirius, tell me, how did you escape Azkaban after being locked up for more than a decade?'"

"That would have been an excellent conversation starter."

Lupin groaned, setting the bottle down on the kitchen counter. "Okay, fine. Tell me, how did you escape?"

"Well that's simple," Sirius smirked. "Dementors can't detect the emotions of animals. So, I turned into my lovely canine counterpart and poof! The rest is history."

"Okay, so why?"

"Because I'm _innocent_. I didn't kill those muggles. I didn't kill Peter."

Remus snorted.

"Good Merlin, Moony! Really?" Sirius groaned. "I didn't want to have to do this—take off your shirt."

"Excuse me?"

"Shirt. Off. Now."

Lupin stood there, looking baffled by the request of the ex- con. Sirius stared at him, and Remus knew he wouldn't stop until he did what he asked. Sighing irritably, he removed his white- cotton v-neck, throwing it to the side. He knew what Sirius was looking for. The tattoo.

Sirius pointed to the vertical tattoo running down the side of Remus's stomach to his hip. They were symbols—a stag, a dog, a rat, and a werewolf. It wasn't the best choice of symbols, but they were all young when they made the bond—so they had to stick with it. Until the end.

The stag symbol was faded. After all these years, you could barely recognize it was there. Sirius, and Lupin, tried hard not to focus on that one.

"It's only three symbols that aren't faded."

Lupin nodded. "I'm aware of that."

"Okay, that doesn't make any fucking sense—seeing as James _and Peter_ are supposed to be dead." Sirius lifted up his shirt, pointing to his tattoo. "It's the same on mine."

"Maybe, the magic—"

Sirius scoffed. " _The Magic?!_ Remus, when we made this bond—we were very careful to prevent it from being tampered with by dark magic. Voldemort couldn't even break the bond! So don't give me that 'maybe the magic' bullshit."

"So what are you saying?" Lupin snapped. "That Peter faked his death? Sirius you were found at the scene of the crime!"

"But you know who wasn't found?" Sirius growled. "Wormtail's body!"

"Sirius—"

"Remus, we were halfway around the world when we felt James. But what about when Peter died? I didn't feel _anything_. I didn't think about it at first, until I looked at the tattoo."

Remus looked down. He didn't fully believed Sirius's story—there were still many unanswered questions. Why did he wait twelve years to break out? If Peter was alive, where had he'd been hiding these past years? Why hadn't anyone found him? But it made sense—if Peter had died, Lupin would've felt it. Just like he felt James. He looked back up at Sirius who was putting back on his shirt.

"I'm right." He said, picking up the Prophet once more. "He isn't dead."

The other man stayed silent, turning back to the kitchen counter to open his bottle of whiskey. Deep down inside he knew Sirius was right—he didn't know why he was doubting him. _Maybe because he's been in Azkaban for twelve years._ He thought. But this was Sirius. His best friend Sirius. Yes, he had done a lot of stupid things in his life, but he wouldn't have been so stupid to kill thirteen muggles. He sighed, taking a large gulp of the drink.

"It's July thirty-first." Sirius said, causing Remus to turn around once more. The ex- prisoner looked up, meeting eyes with Remus, and the man could see in his eyes what he was thinking. How he was feeling. And suddenly, a small wave of guilt washed over him.

"He would've been thirteen today." He continued. "I was going to get him one of those Playboy magazines." He chuckled softly. "Remember that? Lily would've hexed me for it."

"Yeah she would've." Lupin forced out the words. Sirius thought that Harry was dead. He didn't know that Lord Voldemort had taken him, and that the Order covered it up saying that he was killed along with James and Lily. Sirius didn't know that his godson was alive. He didn't know that Tobias LeStrange was Harry Potter.

"I hate I wasn't there for his first birthday. Dumbledore had me checking a lead in Russia. He told me I didn't have to go—but—" He trailed off, taking a swig of firewhiskey. "I don't even remember why I went."

Lupin sat down in the chair in front of him. "You didn't know that—you know—"

"Sometimes I wish I had. I was so damn _stupid._ I should've know he was up to something when he wanted to become their Secret Keeper." He slammed his fist on the couch cushions. "Remus, I should've know!"

The sandy haired man closed his eyes. He couldn't let Sirius beat himself up like this. Not when Harry was alive. Though many would've decided against it, Remus made the choice to tell his friend the truth. This was still Sirius—not the deranged man everyone thought him to be. This was still his friend—a friend that deserved the truth.

"Sirius I have something to tell you." He said, though he could barely hear himself saying it.

The black haired wizard looked at him, and for a moment Lupin wanted to forget about it. Just say "nothing" and move on. Once he told him, there was no going back. Sirius could do anything—he had always been unpredictable. He might go after Voldemort—or after the boy himself.

"Spit it out, Moony." Sirius spat. "I still have five hours to mourn before its August."

Lupin sighed, trying to ignore Sirius's comment. "Harry—Harry isn't—"

"—isn't what?"

Setting down his bottle, Remus stared into Sirius's grey eyes. "Harry isn't dead."

The other man frowned, shaking his head. "Your jokes have gotten really bad, Moony."

"This isn't a joke." Remus's voice now hard and cold. "He isn't dead, Padfoot."

"But—but—you all told me—the papers—"

"Dumbledore lied to the prophet. He lied to everyone. Harry isn't dead."

Sirius swallowed. "So where is he? Where is my godson?"

"Voldemort…..took him."

" _What?_ "

Lupin closed his eyes. "Instead of killing him like we all thought he would, Lord Voldemort took Harry. He's been raising him as his own—under the name Tobias LeStrange."

"LeStrange?" asked Sirius. "As in Bellatrix LeStrange. As in my deranged cousin? As in my godson believes his mother and—what is Voldemort supposed to be?"

"His grandfather."

There was a pause, and then Sirius burst into a fit of laughter. If only this was something to joke about. Lupin stared at the man as he laughed and laughed—classic Sirius. After a few moments, the laughter died down, and Sirius realized that Remus wasn't kidding.

"Oh shit." He said, frowning once more. "You're serious."

Lupin nodded. He watched as Sirius set down his bottle, standing up to face the fireplace. He was wearing an old pair of brown trousers and a black oxford Lupin had found in his closet. He was rather skinny, the pants were slightly hanging from his hip and the shirt was rolled up at his elbows because the sleeves were too long.

Another few steps, and Sirius was standing right in front of him—disappointment and betrayal in his eyes. Lupin could do nothing but stare back, begging with his eyes for Sirius to understand.

Another moment, and Lupin was on the ground—Sirius had punched him in the face. The chair Remus was sitting in had flown backwards, landing with a loud thud. He could hear footsteps, then the sound of paws scattering on the floor. There was the sound of a door closing and he was gone.

Sirius was gone.

* * *

Tobias was sitting in his study chair, holding a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ in his hand and watching as the night fell over the evening sky. Tonight was his birthday dinner—his 13th birthday. This was a pivoting time in his life, or so his grandfather said. His exact words were "the change from a boy to a man." Since they got out for the summer, things were starting to change. Their training became more intense—earlier hours, tougher exercises. Lucius was working them endlessly—pushing them to their limits. Theodore's anger was getting harder to suppress—he was becoming unpredictable. He could be really dangerous at times, but for some reason, Lucius and his grandfather encouraged it.

Ever since the Chamber of Secrets, everything had changed. For one, his grandfather was sick again—even worse than before. Draco was staying at the manor more often—Lucius and Narcissa were arguing more apparently. Theodore was already staying, but he had been gone for the week because his grandmother had come to visit from Paris. Everything seemed tense— Tobias tried to push past the fact that his grandfather was the reason that Hermione was petrified and that Ginny almost died last term, but it was almost impossible. For the past twelve years, he had admired his grandfather, he wanted to be just like him. But now things were different, even if he wasn't the man he was when he was sixteen, he was still Lord Voldemort.

"It's like every year your hair gets bushier and bushier."

Tobias turned around to see Pansy standing in his doorway. She was wearing a long red dress, similar to the one she wore to Theodore's dinner party last year. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail—her hair was longer he could tell. She was also wearing the gold necklace he had given her for her birthday, along with small, stud gold earrings. For some reason, he couldn't stop staring at her—she was beautiful. But he blinked, suddenly remembering Ginny, who he had been writing to all summer and the fact that Pansy was his best friend.

"Hellooooo." Said Pansy. "Earth to LeStrange."

He blinked again. "Uh, hey."

The Slytherin girl rolled her eyes, walking into the room. "Why aren't you dressed, already? We have to greet the stupid guests in like an hour. And before you say you can wait until fifteen minutes before then to get dressed, you're forgetting that it takes thirty minutes to do your hair."

"Actually it won't." Tobias smirked, standing up to face the girl. "Because I have recently found the spell to make my hair the way I like it."

Pansy stared at him. "You mean Granger found it?"

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes again. "Fine. But if your grandfather walks in here and sees you're not dressed, I'm telling him it's your fault."

"Aw, come on," Tobias chuckled. "That's not going to happen."

"So you say." Pansy muttered, sitting down on the bed. She could barely keep her heart from exploding out of her chest. She and Tobias had spent so much time together this summer, it was impossible for her to get over him. He had chosen Ginny, but for some reason her feelings wouldn't allow her to accept that. This was her best friend—they had both made the neutral decision for their relationship to stay that way. So why wouldn't her stupid feelings go away?

"Have you read the prophet?" Tobias asked, and Pansy looked up to see he was buttoning up his black oxford in the mirror, his bowtie hanging off his shoulder. "A prisoner escaped from Azkaban."

"Yeah I did, Sirius Black."

"I had Hermione look him up," Tobias continued. "He was one of my grandfather's biggest supporters. Other than murdering thirteen people, he's also my cousin."

Pansy raised a brow. "I feel like the cousin part stood out more than everything else."

"Yeah, it did." Said Tobias, now tying his black bowtie. "First, my grandfather's son, then this mysterious serial murderer of a cousin. I've never even seen his face on the family tree."

"And that matters why?"

"Because everything just feels weird. Ever since the chamber, things have been…different."

Pansy frowned slightly. Things had been different since the end of their second year. Along with Malfoy's, her parents were also arguing more—which explained why she had spent all her time at LeStrange Manor when she could. She had caught wind of one of their arguments—the Dark Lord was sick, and they needed to gather his followers for some ceremony with the heirs. And speaking of the heirs, they were also changing. Theodore was becoming more of a hothead, Draco barely spoke anymore, Tobias always seemed worried, and the strangest of all, Zabini actually seemed happy.

There was a knock and the two turned to find Tom Riddle now standing in the doorway. A sophisticated look on his face. Pansy stood up to speak, but the old man raised his hand, silencing her.

"Good evening, Miss Parkinson." He said politely. "You look lovely. I do say, I have picked a satisfying bride for my grandson." Pansy tried to hide her blush at those words. "And speaking of my grandson, would you excuse us?"

"Of course." Pansy said, grabbing her gold clutch. She walked out the door, but not before turning around to give Tobias a worried look. The boy looked back at her, his eyes telling her that everything would be alright. She nodded, disappearing down the hall.

Tom Riddle then closed the door, and Tobias felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach. This was one of the few times he and his grandfather were alone. All Tobias could see was the face of the young sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle that stood before him in the chamber.

"Is there something wrong, grandfather?" Tobias asked, keeping his composure. "Have the guests arrived early?"

Riddle shook his head. "No they haven't, and they won't be arriving any time tonight. We have a situation."

"Situation?"

"Mister Nott has gone missing," His grandfather continued, and Tobias felt his heart sinking even deeper. "I received a letter from his father saying that he left Nott Manor approximately fifteen minutes ago."

Tobias felt his body tense. Theodore had run away—there was no telling where he could be. "Did Sir Nott say why Theodore left?"

"Apparently, he and his father had an argument. He stormed out with his trunk."

"Is his father looking for him?" Tobias asked desperately. "Is _anyone_ looking for him?"

His grandfather shook his head once more. "No, and that is why I'm here. We thought it best if you and Draco go look for him—that way he wouldn't cause any damage to whatever shelter he is hiding in. I also thought it would be a great field exercise."

 _Of course._ Tobias wanted to roll his eyes. Of course they would turn Theo running away into some training exercise. But he didn't have time to think about that.

Tobias pulled off his bowtie, grabbing his black jacket and his wand. "Does Draco already know?"

"I just briefed him. He's waiting downstairs—he should be briefing Miss Parkinson, who is also going with you."

The Slytherin boy nodded, trying to control himself as he headed towards the door. Theodore was missing, his best friend Theodore. And there was Sirius Black, who was on the loose. Though there were stories of the ex-prisoner being his grandfather's biggest supporter, the years in Azkaban might've changed him. What Black found Theodore? What would he do to him?

He ran downstairs, finding Draco sitting on the couch still in his suit and Pansy standing near the fireplace. Her hair and make-up were the same, but she had changed clothes. She was now wearing a pair of black jeans and a Slytherin jumper.

Tobias looked at them both. "Did you tell her?" He asked Draco.

"Yeah." His cousin nodded. "So what's the plan?"

"We go to Nott Manor first, find out what happened. Maybe we can get an idea on where he could've gone."

Draco tucked his wand in his pocket. "Sounds like a plan."

Tobias then walked to the fireplace, where he grabbed Pansy by the hand, pulling her inside of it. On his right, stood Draco, who had grabbed a large handful of floo powder. They didn't say anything else as Draco yelled the words "Nott Manor" or as they were being swallowed in a rage of green flames. Draco felt sick, but not because of the floo, but because he was worried about Theodore. Tobias and Theo were like his little brothers—and ever since the chamber, Draco felt like they had all been distant from each other. The blonde Slytherin knew he had been anti- social lately, with everything going on at home. It all started after his father's trial—he and his mother had been at each other's throats since then. He knew Theodore's anger was getting worse, but he just sat back in watched, locking himself in the guest room of LeStrange Manor every night. He was supposed to be there for him—and now Theodore was gone.

* * *

"So Muggles can't see the bus?"

"Nope." Stan Shunpike answered. "They can' hear it neither. Never notice nuffink, they don'."

The Knight Bus. Emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards. Theodore was lucky it came—he hadn't walked three blocks before he had gotten tired. He didn't know where he wanted to go yet. Honestly, he was trying to calm down from the incident that happened earlier.

His grandmother, Isabel Nott, had come to the manor from Paris. Theodore literally hated her. She always complained about how Theodore wasn't serious enough—questioning why the boy was even considered an heir. For years, Theodore had ignored her comments, but this time she had went too far. She had brought up his mother. He could still hear the last words she said echoing in his head.

 _"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Terrell. It has everything to do with the mother. It's one of the basic rules of breeding. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup."_

After that, he remembered nothing. When he closed his eyes, all he saw were flashes. His father yelling, the candles burning wildly, his grandmother being thrown out of her chair. It was getting worse, his anger. He knew it—and it scared the hell out of him. He tried to control it—he wrote to Hermione every time he felt like burning Nott Manor down. She would always tell him the same thing. _Breathe. Count to ten. And 60 more days until we return to Hogwarts._

But this time counting to ten wouldn't have worked. The witch had pushed him to his limits—even further than Lucius did at training. No one insulted his mother—no one. And his father had the nerve to let her say that about her—about his wife. That's why he hated him. He was a pathetic excuse for a husband, and an even lesser excuse for a father. So he packed his trunk and left.

But now the question was, where would he go?

"Woss you say your name was again?" asked Stan.

Stan was a peculiar fellow. He had to be at least eighteen or nineteen. His ears were huge—that was the first thing Theodore pointed out about the boy. He was quite tall, and his face was covered in small, bulging pimples.

"Neville Longbottom." Theodore lied. He didn't want to reveal his true identity—what if the Knight Bus took him back to the manor. On some order from his father?

"Hmmm…you don' look like a Neville."

"I get that a lot. Mother says it's my art of deception."

Stan sniffed, opening a copy of the _Daily Prophet._ "Well, I reckon she's right. Have you read the papers lately?"

"Not if I can help it." Replied Theodore. "Newspapers bore me."

Stan tossed him the Prophet. "Well, it won't bore you today. Read the newest article on the Azkaban Escapee. _Sirius Black._ "

"Is that a color?"

"What? No, you nitwit. He woz a big supporter of You-know-'Oo." Murdered thirteen people in broad daylight."

"On second thought," The Slytherin then unfolded the paper, revealing the cover story that stated **BLACK STILL AT LARGE.** He read the article quickly, his insides clenching as he read every word. Nobody knew where Black was, and here was Theodore—riding around on a wizarding bus. A wizarding bus that Black could easily summon and murder everybody on it.

"And he did all this—" The boy swallowed. "With one curse?"

"Yep." Said Stan. "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

Ern was the driver. He was very old with large thick glasses, but Theo was pretty sure he couldn't see anyway. "Ar. Best go wake Madam Marsh, Stan. We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."

The conductor nodded and went up a wooden staircase, leaving Theodore on one of the beds. He looked at the newspaper article, watching as Black yanked and screamed behind the bars of Azkaban.

"Ere you go, Madam Marsh." Stan had returned with an elderly witch who was holding a handkerchief over her mouth. Ern opened the doors allowing the old witch to get off while Stan threw her bags out behind her. Without even thinking twice, Ern shut the doors and they were on the move again. Making twists and turns every five seconds—Theodore felt like he was sliding down the pipe into the Chamber of Secrets again.

The boy looked up to see Stan eyeing him suspiciously. Theo tried to seem innocent, flipping a page in the prophet to look as if he was actually reading it.

"You did flag us down, dincha?" asked Stan, his eyebrow raised. "Stuck out your wand and, dincha?"

"Of course." Theodore lied again. He had his wand out to find his way around, seeing as there were no lights outside the manor, but instead of a light—he received the Knight Bus. "So this Sirius Black character?"

"Oh yeah," The conductor said instantly, looking as if he was returning out of a trance. "Very big supporter of You-Know-'Oo. They say, when all the Death Eaters went into hiding, some of them got caught by the Ministry—those came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over."

Theodore set the newspaper aside. "So they caught him how?"

"Cornered him in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard for it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh?"

Theodore shrugged. "I've heard worse."

"But that's not even the worse part." Stand said in a dark voice. "When they 'ad caught 'im, all he did was laugh. Jus' stood there an' laughed. All the way to the Ministry, laughing 'is 'ead off. Mad, inee? Inee mad, Ern?"

Ern grunted. "If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now. I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you…after what he did…"

"How did they cover it up?" asked Theodore.

Stan chuckled. "Smart boy, here. Ministry always cover their tracks. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"

"Gas Explosion." Ern grunted again.

"An' now 'e's out," Stan shook his head. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me' 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, Ern?"

Ern shivered and so did Theo. He knew about Azkaban's guards—the dementors. He had seen pictures of them in one of his father's books. They would give the grim reaper a run for his money.

"Talk about summat else, Stan," Ern said. "Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

"Right." The conductor turned back to Theodore. "Where did you say you wanted to go again?"

"London." Theodore said quickly. "To visit a friend."

"Righto." Stan said cheerfully. "'Old tight then."

* * *

If Severus Snape had a sickle for every time Molly moaned about Tobias's safety—he would be richer than the heirs combined. Despite the fact that the boy was living with Lord Voldemort, he was safer than any other wizard child. Voldemort would burn down a village before he let someone close enough to harm Tobias, yet take him. Yet, here was Molly Weasley—being Molly Weasley.

"He could ruin everything!" She argued. "If Black gets to the boy, there's no telling what will happen! Harry may kill him—just like Quirrell."

"There's no need to assume, Molly." Sneered Snape. "Sirius doesn't even know where the boy is. Or who he is."

"And when he finds out? Then what?"

Mad- Eye took a swig from his flask. "You forget that we aren't the only ones that know about Black escaping from Azkaban. The Muggle Prime Minister even knows about it. No doubt Voldemort has already set up precautions just in case Black comes for the boy."

"What if he doesn't allow Harry to return to Hogwarts? Because of Black escaping?"

"That has already been handled." Dumbledore said firmly. "This school year, the guards of Azkaban will be guarding Hogwarts as well, watching out for Black or any copycats that might try to invade the premises."

Kingsley frowned. "Dementors? Guard Azkaban? Dumbledore—"

"It was the only way to ensure Tobias would return to Hogwarts. Had I allowed the Order to patrol, or even some of Fudge's Aurors, Voldemort wouldn't have trusted us. Especially since what happened with Lucius last term."

Arthur Weasley sighed. "He's right. But I still don't like it. Those dementors are as deadly as Voldemort himself."

The table went quiet. Remus sat at the table, the guilt in his stomach making him sick. They didn't know Sirius had been staying at his apartment in London this past month—and now Sirius was gone. Sirius now knew that Harry Potter was Tobias LeStrange. That Voldemort took him and was raising him as his own.

"You've been awfully quiet, Remus." Said Dumbledore, who was eyeing him carefully. "Is there something bothering you?"

The wizard sighed, cursing himself under his breath. He would have to tell them—all hell could break loose if he didn't. _Goddammit Sirius._

"Sirius knows that Harry is Tobias LeStrange." He just came out with it, and just as he said it—the whole atmosphere changed.

"And how the bloody hell does he know that?" Mad-Eye roared, breaking the silence.

Snape narrowed his eyes at Lupin. "Because Remus told him. But the question is how?"

Ignoring the looks from the other order members, Remus looked towards Dumbledore. "He's been staying with me ever since he escaped. I knew the dementors were after him, but with my apartment being in muggle London, I knew they wouldn't look there."

"And why didn't you tell the Order?" Kingsley asked. "I understand Sirius is your friend, Remus, but he murdered _thirteen people._ "

Lupin shook his head. "I don't believe he did it."

"Your proof?" said Snape.

"It's complicated. But he's convinced he is innocent."

"Of course he is." Molly screeched. "Sirius always thought he was the innocent party. It was very arrogant of him to think he would've walked out of the fiasco a free man those years ago."

"Is he still there?" Arthur asked. "At your apartment?"

Remus closed his eyes. "No, he left a few hours ago."

"Well, now we can worry." Mad-Eye grunted. "He'll be going after the boy for sure, now that he knows who he is."

There was another silence, which was then interrupted by a hissing noise from Snape, who clamped a hand around his left forearm. Everyone knew this was the arm that held his dark mark—the Dark Lord was contacting him.

"Excuse me." Said the man. "I must go."

Snape then left, leaving the other members at the table. Everyone was thinking the same thoughts. Where was Sirius? But most importantly, where was Tobias? Was he safe? Merlin forbid if the two ran into each other tonight.

* * *

As the green flames disappeared, Tobias, Pansy, and Draco stepped into what looked like the result of a training exercise. Glass was shattered everywhere, the once white table cloth was now ripped and burned. Chairs were knocked over, broken dishes scattered on the floor.

"And they want to encourage his anger." Draco hissed.

Tobias could barely hear him, as his ears were focused elsewhere. Two voices arguing back and forth in the next room—a man and a woman. He walked slowly towards the room, gesturing for Draco and Pansy to keep quiet as they followed him. As they walked closer, the voices became clearer.

"I told you! I _told you_!" The woman snapped. "I told you that boy was not fit to be an heir. Her heritage has poisoned him."

"Her heritage is just like ours, mother." The man argued back.

"But she wasn't raised that way! Those filthy mudbloods taught her their customs and now look! You can pretty much say the boy is one of _them_!"

"Theodore is my son. That is why he is an heir—my blood runs through his veins!"

The woman scoffed. "He's nothing like you. He can't _stand_ you—that boy will be the death of you, Terrell. And until then—"

"Where is he?" Tobias had heard enough of this. He understood why Theodore left, why the dining room looked as it did. His grandmother brought up his mother—she had gone too far this time.

Isabel Nott turned around, glaring at the three teenagers standing in the doorway. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop? If you were my children—"

"But we're not." Draco growled. "Now where is Theodore?"

Terrell walked passed his mother. "It's fine, mother. I'll handle this." He gestured for them to go up the stairs. "We can talk more in my study, Mister LeStrange."

They followed Sir Nott up the staircase. Tobias peeped into Theodore's room, which looked the same as the dining area. His drawers and wardrobe were still opened, his desk was empty. Tobias looked forward, watching as Draco and Pansy disappeared in the next room—Nott's study.

Walking inside, Tobias noticed the man's desk was covered in books. With a flick of a wand, the books closed themselves, returning to their rightful places on the bookshelf. Another flick, and the door closed behind him. Pansy had taken a seat in one of the office chairs, her face stone cold, her legs crossed as usual. Draco stood posted against the wall near the door, his arms folded. Tobias stood where he was, looking to Sir Nott for an explanation.

"Talk."

Nott glared at him for a moment but finally sniffed. "As you've heard downstairs, my mother and Theodore had an argument. He stormed out—I don't know where he went. I figured he might've gone to LeStrange Manor, but since you're here…"

"His anger—it did that—the dining room?"

"Yes." Terrell nodded. "This is the worse it's ever been."

"Do you have an idea of anywhere else he could've went?" asked Pansy.

"No. Knowing Theodore, he would've gone somewhere he knew I wouldn't look for him. Which would include LeStrange's manor and St. Mungo's."

Draco grunted. "That means he didn't use the floo."

"No." Terrell shook his head. "He went right out the front door. By the time I got out to the street, he was gone."

Tobias frowned. "You don't think someone took him?"

"Let's be honest Mister LeStrange. If anybody took my son, they would've brought him back by now."

Pansy looked at the boy. "He has a point."

Tobias nodded. "We'll take it from here, Sir Nott."

Tobias then left the study, Pansy and Draco right behind him. They made sure not to walk back into the living area, where Theodore's grandmother was still grumbling to herself. They headed through the foyer, where Tobias held the door for Pansy, where she led them to the end of the pathway into the street.

It was dark, with only a few street lights lit. It was 9:00—most people would be in their houses by now—now that there was a murderer on the loose. Tobias held his wand up—he had a strange feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he didn't like it.

"Does anyone else feel like we're being watched?" said Draco.

The other two said nothing, but they felt the same. They continued down the dark street—the street lights now blinking on and off. Pansy could only see Tobias's outline as she walked behind him. Wherever Theodore was, she hoped they found him soon.

Tobias kept walking, his ears on alert, his wand at ready. He then stopped—something had caught his attention. A rustling of bushes—a slight shadow of something walking across the street. Or someone. He could see a figure standing a few paces ahead of them—it didn't walk any closer. Tobias squinted down the sidewalk, finally making out the burly outline of the figure.

"Tobias, what's wrong?" Pansy asked. But Tobias ignored her—whatever it was it was watching him. He knew he was exposed now—he was standing directly under the street light.

Draco walked up beside him. "You better have a good excuse for stopping in the middle—"

But the blonde Slytherin couldn't finish his sentence as the figure growled loudly, charging forward at the three. Tobias was frozen as the hulking black dog came running towards him. His green eyes met the wide, gleaming ones of the canine. Another second, and Tobias had fallen to the ground, the rabid dog on top of him.

"Stupi—" Draco started to yell, his wand aimed at the dog.

Pansy grabbed his arm. " _No!_ We can't use magic outside of school!"

"Bloody hell." The blond Slytherin growled, rolling up his sleeves.

Tobias tried wrestling with the dog, but it was too strong. After seconds of struggling, the Slytherin soon realized that the dog wasn't trying to attack him. Their eyes met again, and for some reason Tobias felt like he had seen those eyes before—like they were connected somehow. The boy laid there, his breathing now in rhythm with the dog.

"Get off of him!" He heard Draco roar, and the dog growled again, snapping it's teeth at the blonde Slytherin's hand. It then jumped off Tobias, running into the woods behind a nearby house. Tobias watched as it disappeared, absently grabbing Draco's hand as he was pulled to his feet.

Pansy walked up, checking his face for any scars or bites. "The hell was that about?"

Tobias shrugged. "Don't know. It's strange though—I feel like I've seen that dog somewhere."

"Maybe one of Fluffy's cousins." Said Draco. " _Ahh!_ "

The three covered their ears as a loud BANG filled the street. They turned around to find a purple, three-decker bus parked behind them. The gold letters read "The Knight Bus." The doors opened and the conductor jumped out.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this—oi! Wait a minute. Ern! We've already been here."

The conductor stopped to look at the three teenagers. Tobias frowned.

"What do you mean you've already been here?"

Stan dusted down his uniform. "We picked up a fella 'bout your height here 'bout an 'our ago. Brown hair, amusing fella. What was his name Ern?"

"Neville, I think." The heard someone else grunt.

"That's right." Stan snapped his fingers. "Neville Longbottom."

Tobias exchanged looks with the other two. "Theo." They all said at the same time.

"Who?"

"No one." Tobias said. "We're actually glad you're here. We're friends of…Neville, and he was supposed to meet us here so we could catch the bus together."

The conductor chuckled. "Looks like he pulled a fast one of you lot."

"Seems so." Draco grumbled.

"Do you know where he went?" Pansy asked.

Stan started to speak but froze at the sight of the Slytherin girl. Pansy rolled her eyes, practically watching as the drool fell from his mouth.

"Oi!" Draco snapped. "She's thirteen."

"Huh?" Stan said dreamily before snapping out of his trance. "Oh, uh—right. I know where you're friend went. Hop on and we'll take you there."

"Thank you." Said Tobias, stepping onto the bus. Pansy went behind him, and Draco went behind her. Stan fell over with an _oompf_ as Draco shouldered him when he walked onto the bus. The doors then closed and the Knight Bus took off once more.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in her bed, reading as usual. She felt content with herself, having completed all her tasks for the day. She had completed her thorough research of the notorious murderer, Sirius Black. Whoever he was, he was dangerous—she had even seen his face on the local news station. What scared her even worse was that he was Tobias's cousin. The end of last term had been full of shocking news. Lord Voldemort being Tobias's grandfather, his grandfather having this mysterious son, and now Sirius Black.

She even went as far as looking into Tobias's parents. His mother, Bellatrix LeStrange, frightened her the most. The newspaper articles about her were chilling—72 muggles dead in France; a whole village burned in Iceland; 12 wizards found tortured by the cruciatus curse in Russia. There wasn't much on his father—only that he was also one of Lord Voldemort's most faithful followers. It made Hermione wonder—how could someone like Bellatrix have a son like Tobias? Yes, he wasn't like other Slytherins—but he would at least have some violent traits. Maybe Voldemort was teaching him to be unlike his parents.

The door to her room opened, and her father stepped in. He closed the door behind him, an uneasy expression on his face. Hermione knew this face—he usually made it when she was explaining the customs of the wizarding world.

"Is everything alright, dad?" She asked.

"Uh, yes, well…no." Her father said. "You have a visitor."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. A visitor? She never had any visitors—she didn't have any friends from the muggle world. All her friends were wizards, wizards who went to Hogwarts. But who would have come to visit her? Tobias's birthday dinner was tonight, meaning that he, Draco, and Theodore would be there. Pansy would've been there as well. Ron and his family were in Egypt and Neville wasn't allowed to leave the house after the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, along with the fact that Sirius Black was on the loose.

She then looked at the time on her alarm clock. 10:00. Tobias's dinner would've been over. Her heart stopped. _No. Not today._ She wasn't properly dressed—she had on her pajamas. Surely Draco would've had enough sense to come visit her during the day, where she had time to prepare herself and her parents. She could see the amused smirk on his face now as she would come down the stairs, dressed in her black pajama shorts and red and gold Gryffindor sweatshirt.

"Hermione." He father said again, knocking her out of her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh yes, the visitor."

She jumped out of bed, quickly taking her hair of the messy bun it was in and running her hand through the thick curls. She followed her father down the steps, her heart thumping against her chest. She tried not to seem nervous—if Draco was arrogant enough to show up at her house in the middle of the night, then this is what he would receive. Hermione Granger—in pajamas. But as she reached the bottom of the steps, she was shocked and relieved to find that it was not the blonde Slytherin waiting for her.

"Were you sleep?" Theodore asked, frowning at her pajamas.

"Theo? What are you doing here?"

She looked down, he had his trunk by his side. He was also wearing his traveling cloak. She closed her eyes, hoping that this isn't what she thought it was. That Theo didn't show up at her house—in _Muggle London_ to—

"Isn't it obvious?" Theodore said smiling. "I've come to stay for the summer."

* * *

Another paper thrown, burning into flames and then falling down onto the ground.

Another paper. Repeat.

Atlas sat on the porch steps, crumbling the discarded _Daily Prophet_ articles as he read them. He would cut out the ones he liked, tossing the others to the side. He had recently tossed the article pertaining to the Weasley family, who had won a trip to Egypt. He watched as it burned to ashes, their faces being swallowed in the flames.

It had been a month since Mister Riddle came to visit. He didn't write, but Atlas didn't need him to. He rolled up his sleeve, eyeing the skull tattoo on his left forearm. It had begun to sting earlier, but Atlas knew to stay put.

" _When it is time, I will send someone to take you from here."_

The boy waited for that day to come. For when he would be taken away from this abomination of a home. It wasn't that he didn't like it—he loved Demetric, like any son would love his father. But he wanted more, because he knew he could have it. He was a wizard—and right now, if his father would let him, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts. He hated being stuck here.

"I'm surprised you're still up." He heard his father say. "Usually, you'd be in your room studying right now."

Atlas rolled his sleeve back down, turning around to face the man standing behind him on the porch. He was wearing his usual denim jeans and mechanic shirt.

"Thought I'd take a break." He turned back to look at the night sky. There were no stars out tonight.

He could hear Demetric's footsteps behind him. He slid over on the step, allowing the man to sit beside him. Atlas watched as the wind blew his brown hair backwards, revealing the stubble from his growing beard.

"You need to shave." Atlas said. "It's growing back."

"I've decided to let it grow out this time." His father chuckled. "Trying something new."

Atlas smiled a little. "Oh yeah? Well, look—I've tried something new, too. _Lumos Maxima._ "

A bright light then appeared before them, shining brightly as a star. It soon faded away, leaving the two in the dark once more. Demetric grew silent, and Atlas knew what he was thinking. He had overheard one of his conversations with McGonagall one night over the summer. She had insisted that he allowed Atlas to come to Hogwarts, where he could be himself—where Demetric wouldn't have to hide him anymore. Through her whole speech, Demetric only said one thing.

 _"The minute he steps in that school, I'll lose him. He loves it too much, Minerva. And it scares me."_

He knew what Demetric meant. He didn't want Atlas to end up like Riddle. Atlas didn't know much about the man, but he knew enough. He knew that he was one of the brightest students at Hogwarts many years ago. In some ways, he was just like Atlas—Riddle had grown up in a muggle orphanage, not aware that he had magical blood flowing through his veins. Once he found out his true power, he became obsessed with it. And it drove him mad.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"When the time comes," The boy said slowly, absently rubbing the mark on his arm. "I won't let anything happen to you. I can protect you, you know that right?"

Demetric sighed. He laid a soft hand on Atlas's back. "I know." He said firmly, he then turned, looking into his boy's eyes, trying to look past the fact that this was Lord Voldemort's son. "But when that time comes…" He trailed off, not wanting to say what he wanted. He closed his eyes, not wanting to think about it.

Atlas swallowed. "What?"

"Nothing. Just promise me, that you'll use this gift you have for good."

At those words, Atlas stopped rubbing his arm. He felt a pang of guilt settle in his chest. His father knew it, too. But still he said those words.

"I promise."

 **Author's Note: And we're back! A little earlier than I expect, but who cares? And yes, the Atlas Riddle story will be expanded in this book.**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	40. POA2: Targets

I torture you

Take my hand through the flames

I torture you

I'm a slave to your games

I'm just a sucker for pain

~ Sucker For Pain x Suicide Squad

Chapter 40: Targets

Blaise Zabini stood on the balcony of the west wing of the Zabini Manor, the furry hinge of a textbook clutched in his hand. Other than the fact that there were no stars out tonight, it was rather quiet for a summer night. It was quiet for it to be July 31st- LeStrange's birthday. The boy would be hearing the sounds of late night guests departing, the sounds of apperation, and the black cloud of others leaving. But tonight, nothing—not a sound. Just the chirps of the crickets and the sound of his own breathing.

He was still in his black suit—he hadn't changed once he had gotten the word that LeStrange's dinner party had been canceled. That Nott had run away. Blaise snorted to himself—he knew sooner or later the boy's anger would overpower his father. Lucius and the rest were too stupid to see what monster they were creating and it was only a matter of time before it backfired on them. LeStrange tried his best to level the situation, allowing Nott to stay at his manor for the summer. Malfoy, however, seemed to be the most distant of the three this summer. Along with the rest of the pureblood children, his parents were at each other's necks. _It's beginning again, isn't it?_ He heard his mother ask his father one night.

They didn't argue much, or not as much when Blaise was around. His parents were always secretive—their son being the same way. While they were keeping their conflicts a secret, Blaise was also keeping a secret. A secret that made him happier than any child could be during early mornings of extensive training and afternoons of studying—Ginny Weasley.

Ever since that day on the train, they've been friends. For the first time in his life, Zabini didn't feel like a royal git. And it was all because of her—Ginny—who saw him as something more than just a Slytherin, than the last of the heirs, than the manipulative little git everyone now saw him to be. He was just "Blaise" to her—Blaise Zabini, her friend. And though he wished to be more than that, he wouldn't rush it. _Good things come to those who wait._ She wrote to him one day.

He sighed against the summer air—now realizing they hadn't spoken in a couple days. She had just left to go to Egypt that evening with her family and her father insisted they only use their owl in case of an emergency. For once, he agreed with Weasley—their bloody bird would probably pass out if they were constantly sending letters back and forth.

So during his days of loneliness, Blaise did what any Zabini did best—well this Zabini in particular—plot revenge. Though LeStrange's little stunt helped him gain his friendship with Ginny, it also made him the laughing stock of Hogwarts. He was an _heir!_ Despite Ginny's words, he was never the one to wait for someone to "get what they deserved." He needed to regain his title—he needed LeStrange to feel how he felt. And it wouldn't stop at LeStrange, but also Malfoy, and Nott, and Weasley, and Granger, and Longbottom. So he would wait, and observe, and once they returned to Hogwarts, he would put his plan into action—hurting the one person they all cared about the most.

He squinted as an owl came into view, heading straight towards his manor. The boy smiled slightly as he recognized Errol, the Weasley's owl. And with it was a note, attached to the leg of the bird. Blaise took it off lightly, shooing Errol away. Opening it quickly, he read the contents.

 _Dear Manipulative Little Git,_

 _I would ask 'how are you?' but I don't want to hear you moan and complain about training, I hear it enough from Tobias. I snuck in this letter with my dad's letter to the Ministry. But Egypt's amazing! We are supposed to be going inside the Pyramids of Giza tomorrow! I'll be sure to bring you some photographs of mummies—I figured creepy gits like you are into that kind of stuff. Ha! See you soon._

 _From,_

 _The Releaser of the Basilisk_

Blaise folded the letter back up, his stomach churning at the word "Tobias." Of course the tan Slytherin was jealous, Ginny was his. He quickly settled those feelings, there was already one hothead in the line of heirs. It wouldn't do him any good to create another one. He refused to become another of Lord Voldemort's lab rats. Tucking away Ginny's letter inside the textbook, Blaise gazed at the title. The thoughts of Tobias liking his Ginny disappeared as the factors of his revenge plot came into play. He smirked slightly' running his fingertips over the engraved letters.

 ** _The Monster Book of Monsters_**

* * *

Hermione couldn't control the rapid beating of her heart. She looked at her parents, who looked as if someone had just broken into their house, and there was Theodore, looking as if he did nothing wrong. Upon his arrival, the boy had asked for a glass of water. He calmly held the cup in his hand, sipping as he stared at all three Grangers sitting on the couch across from him.

Monica Granger cleared her throat. "What did you say your name was again, dear?"

"Theodore." Theo said with a smile. "Theodore Nott."

"And you go to school with Hermione, yes?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, ma'am. She's one of my best friends."

"Best friend or _boyfriend?_ " Wendell Granger asked slowly.

" _Dad!"_ Hermione shrieked, turning red at the question.

Theo laughed. "Oh no, that spot's already been taken."

" _Theodore!"_

"Okay, okay. It's not necessarily taken, _yet._ "

Hermione's mother frowned. "Taken by who?"

The bushy-haired witch wanted to hex Theodore into a pocket watch—did he ever shut up? But as he opened his mouth to speak again, there was a ringing of the doorbell. Hermione sighed in relief, seeing as now her parents' attention had been diverted. But as her mother and father walked towards the front door—another question popped into her mind. A wave of fear crashed over her.

"Theodore." She asked carefully. "You weren't followed, were you?"

Theodore went pale. "Uhhhh—maybe?"

"Hermione!"

Hermione growled at Theodore before getting up to see who was at her door. Her thoughts of hexing the Slytherin boy on her living room couch quickly evaporated as her eyes met the gray ones of Draco Malfoy. Blinking quickly to make sure this wasn't a dream, she also noticed that Tobias LeStrange and Pansy Parkinson were also at her door, Pansy with a slick smirk on her face.

"Mom. Dad." The witch began. "These are my other friends from school: Tobias LeStrange, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy."

Tobias stuck out his hand, but Draco pushed forward, offering his instead. Hermione blushed at the gesture while Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Granger." The blonde Slytherin said, but soon dropped his hand as the older man didn't shake it.

Mrs. Granger cleared her throat. "Why don't you all get inside? You know there's a murderer on the loose. It's all over the news."

"What's the news?" Tobias asked.

"Oh, I forgot." She whispered, now embarrassed. "Wizards. Just—just come inside."

The three Slytherins stepped inside, following Hermione's mother into the living room. Theodore looked up from his glass of water, smiling brightly as the others stepped inside.

"Hey, now it's a party!"

Draco's mood immediately changed. "You're lucky we even made it here! What were you thinking?"

Hermione could see Theodore's mood change as well. She had never seen him get this angry before. She grabbed Draco's arm, trying to calm him down before Theodore made a wreck of her living room.

"What are you even doing here?" Theo spat. "You've been locked in your room all summer, I'm surprised you even noticed I was _missing._ "

"Of course I knew you were missing." Draco snapped back, ignoring the warning hold Hermione had on him. "You aren't the only one having problems, Theo."

"Enough!" Tobias yelled. "We've found him, that's all that matters."

Theodore and Draco glared at each other, before dropping their attitudes. Pansy went to hug Theodore, kissing him on his cheek and ruffling his hair. Tobias and Draco hugged him next—Theodore surprising the blonde Slytherin by tickling him under his arm. The tickle attack soon ended as Draco punched Theo in the gut, causing the boy to flop back down on the couch.

"So." Theodore forced out. "I guess we better be going."

" _Going?"_ Mrs. Granger gasped. "You all can't go."

Mr. Granger looked confused. "Monica."

"Wendell, you can't honestly think we can let these children wander out in the streets with a _murderer_ on the loose!"

Wendell Granger looked as if he wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. His wife put on a smile small of satisfaction, turning to face the third- years.

"Tobias, is there someone you can contact to inform where you'll be staying tonight."

The black-haired boy nodded. "Yes ma'am. My father." He could see out the corner of his eye the confused looks from Draco and Theodore, but the boy didn't react.

"Wonderful." The woman said back. "Well the boys will be sleeping downstairs in the living area and the girls will sleep upstairs in Hermione's room."

Pansy stood up, flipping her hair. She grabbed Hermione's hand leading her up the stairs. "Come on, Granger. We have much to discuss."

Being caught by surprise, the bushy-haired witch followed, casting a worried glance towards Draco, who would be left downstairs with her father. Her father—who hadn't stopped staring at Draco since he arrived on her doorstep.

Theodore, Draco, and Tobias stayed on the couch while Mr. Granger sat in the lounge chair across from them. Draco could feel his palms sweating and his heart pounding. This wasn't how he wanted to meet Hermione's parents. Showing up in the middle of the night looking for Theo. Now they were stuck here for the night, and he knew he wouldn't be able to see Hermione. Theodore took another sip of his glass of water, which was almost gone. The boy let out an obnoxious "ahhh", setting the glass back on the table.

"So," Theodore asked. "Do you like Quidditch?"

* * *

Snape casually walked down the lawn of LeStrange Manor, watching as the house elves took down the final decorations of what should've been Tobias's 13th birthday dinner. There were no stars in the sky, a sign that something was coming—a storm. Everything was still—no movement, no noise. Nothing. But the sound of light footsteps along the pathway, and the slight whoosh of his robes. He entered the manor, the door closing softly behind him. He could hear the voices coming from the dining room. He counted the voices. Four. Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, and the Dark Lord. The fathers of the heirs.

Ever since Quirrell and the Chamber of Secrets, the Dark Lord became more paranoid with who he trusted with vital information. This year seemed the most vital—the preparation before the ceremony. Snape was surprised that he heard Malfoy's voice—but it seemed only fair that he knew what was about to happen. This was his son after all. He walked into the dining room, catching the topic of the current conversation.

"Everyone thinks Wormtail is dead." Nott said. "He's the perfect candidate for the task."

Malfoy shook his head. "And what if he screws it up like last time? He barely got away before the Aurors showed up."

"If he screws up anything, we can blame it on Black."

"True." Snape cut in, taking his seat at the dining table. "But we have another problem pertaining Black."

Lord Voldemort frowned. "And that is?"

"Sirius Black knows that the boy is Tobias LeStrange. If we know Black, and we do, we know he will be coming after Tobias."

"If that's the case," said Nott. "he'll most likely wait until the boy returns to Hogwarts. And the students returning to Hogwarts means that Wormtail will be returning too."

Snape seemed confused. "Pettigrew?"

"He's been hiding with the Weasley's. Disguised as their pet rat. I imagine that Black will want to clear his name once he realizes his 'old friend' is in the same premises as his godson."

Zabini chuckled. "From the looks of this, we won't even have to lift a finger to find Pettigrew. Black will draw him out for us."

"We just play our cards right, and we can just blame it all on Black." Malfoy added in.

Snape looked to Lord Voldemort. "What about the boy?"

"I'll be taking precautions." Voldemort responded. "Dementors are guarding Hogwarts—Tobias also won't be attending the visits to Hogsmeade. Black may try to contact him from there."

Snape nodded. "How are the boys doing with the training?" His question now aimed towards Lucius.

"Fairly well for their age group. Theodore is having trouble controlling his anger—but the Dark Lord and I believe that could be a powerful advantage."

Terrell grunted. "You mean the same powerful advantage that almost burned down my home. I thought we were supposed to be _helping_ him. His anger is worse than Tobias's!"

"Calm down, Terrell." Zabini chuckled again. "He hasn't killed anyone, yet."

"And when he does? When a whole village is dead at my son's hands?"

Lord Voldemort sat back in his seat. "Then we hope it's the right one."

Nott sniffed. "I won't allow my son to become a weapon to be used at your free will."

"Teach him to control his anger, and he won't." The Dark Lord said darkly. "But tell me, Terrell, would he even listen to you?"

There was silence. Snape felt sick to his stomach—using a 13-year-old boy as a weapon of mass destruction. That was Lord Voldemort—taking a boy's biggest flaw and exploiting it to his favor. There were so many things wrong with this experiment—Theodore could end up dead. He could kill everyone. Tobias's incident was an accident—no one else was harmed. But Theodore? He could burn down this whole manor, before even realizing what he had done.

Terrell stood up from the table, grabbing his black traveling cloak. He stared at the Dark Lord, who had made no reaction to this man's actions.

"I have served you," Terrell Nott said firmly, his voice slicing the air. "despite the effects it would have on my family. I am asking you, my Lord. Don't do this."

"Or what?" Voldemort responded, his words as equally sharp. "I made you into what you are Terrell—and that boy can be something even greater. Think of all the praise he will get. Isn't that what you wanted? A worthy son?"

Terrell said nothing as he buttoned his cloak. Snape could feel the tension rising between the two wizards. It was the same as last time—except Alana was the topic of their conflict. There were sounds of footsteps—Nott had left the room. A few more moments and the sounds of the footsteps died out. Silence filled the room much more. It was an eerie silence—the peace before the storm.

* * *

When the green flames disappeared, Remus wasn't so much surprised to see Sirius laid back on his couch, his eyes pensive—the man knew he was lost in thought.

"I didn't expect you to return tonight." He said as he removed his coat, sitting down in the chair across from Sirius.

There was a silence, and Lupin knew that he was receiving the silent treatment. Though childish, he couldn't blame Sirius for doing it. He had just found out that his godson wasn't dead—that he had been living with the most dangerous wizard of all time. He assumed that this hurt worse than finding out the lie—that all the Potters had died that night in Godric's Hallow. And sometimes Remus wished they had. Dumbledore was so sure they could get to the boy in time, make him an asset for the Order. But what if it all failed?

"I saw him." Sirius said suddenly. "He looks exactly like James, but his eyes—"

Remus nodded. "Lily's."

"I think he remembered me, Remus." At these words, Sirius sat up, facing his best friend.

"Padfoot, that was years ago, he probably—"

"No. He remembered me—I saw it in his eyes." The ex-con then laid a hand on his heart. "I felt it right here."

The other man sighed, laying back against the chair. "Sirius-"

"You're going to Hogwarts, right?" Sirius interrupted him. "What do you think is going to happen when he sees you?"

Remus frowned. "Nothing. Nothing is going to happen because I'm not going to do anything."

"He needs to know the truth, Moony! He's not lost—I saw it!"

"Do you know what happened to the last man who tried to tell him the truth? He _died._ Harry killed him."

Sirius shook his head. "It won't happen to me. If he wanted to, he could've killed me right there in the street, but he _didn't_."

"He didn't kill you," Lupin said promptly. "Because the students aren't allowed to use magic outside of school."

"Then I'll go to Hogwarts. I'll find my godson—and everything will come back to him."

"Sirius you just can't expect—"

The other man closed his eyes, becoming irritated with his friend's protest. "Remus, there is a part of him that still belongs to us, we just have to show him."

"And then what?!" Remus snapped, now becoming furious with Sirius. "You think he's going to find out the truth and come stay with you? You're a prisoner on the run. I'm a werewolf who has to leave every full moon. Do you really think Voldemort is going to let you _take_ his heir?"

"THAT'S NOT HIS HEIR!"

There was silence—Sirius glaring at Remus and Remus glaring back at Sirius. Fire in both of their eyes—emotions that have been locked away for so long. Truths arising that both must accept.

"That's our godson, Remus. That is _James's_ son." Sirius said, his voice low and hard. "I've already lost him once, I'm not losing him again."

Remus frowned sadly, running a hand through his hair. "Sirius, he's already gone. Even if we tell him the truth, he won't be the same. He won't be Harry—he'll be what Voldemort made him into. We'll just lucky enough to have him on our side."

Sirius shook his head. "No. He'll…..he'll believe us…"

"But he won't be Harry, Padfoot. Please don't do this. Please don't run in there blind when I'm telling you it will end in disappointment. Sirius, please."

"You're wrong." The other man said. "I'm going to go get my godson, whether you're going to help me or not. We owe it to James—and Lily."

Lupin shook his head. "And what are you going to do about the dementors? Dumbledore has them guarding the school."

"Wrong question, Moony." Sirius said with a smirk. "What are the dementors going to do about me?"

* * *

From the way Mr. Granger was staring at them, Tobias would've thought their clothes would burst into flames at any moment. After their short and brief conversation on Quidditch, the silence had swallowed the room. They sat in silence on the couch—Tobias, then Theodore, then Draco. Theodore was now twirling his glass—it was the only thing that could distract him from the obvious awkwardness. Tobias assumed Draco was the most nervous of the bunch—he had a crush on Mr. Granger's daughter.

"So you three are heirs, correct?" The older man asked, breaking the silence.

Tobias nodded. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Granger sat up in his seat, eyeing the three one by one. "LeStrange. Nott. Malfoy." He pointed to each boy, their names slowly rolling off his tongue. "Those are…pureblood names, aren't they?"

The three boys nodded. "Yes sir."

More silence and Tobias could tell where this was leading. Hermione was the only one in the group who was not born of magical parents. Many would say that it was ironic—or maybe strange—that three of her closest friends were Pureblood Slytherin Heirs.

"Are you aware," asked Mr. Granger, still speaking slowly. "That my daughter is….not of magical blood?"

Theodore stopped twirling his glass. "You mean muggle-born?"

The older man nodded. "Hermione has told me many things about the wizarding world. Some things I choose to ignore, but others I lock away, for the safety of my family. And from what I understand, three pureblood boys like yourself are supposed to despise those of my daughter's kind. Muggleborns."

"Oh no sir," said Draco. "We know that Hermione is muggle-born, and I—I mean _we_ don't care that she is."

Mr. Granger sat back, his hands clasped together. "You boys are young—and when you are young, you can sometimes be blind to what things really are."

"Meaning?" Tobias raised an eyebrow, catching on to what Hermione's father was trying to say.

"Meaning that things change." The man continued, his eyes locked on Draco. "You can't see it when you're young—but when you get older…things may become…harder to maintain. Like friendships. _Relationships._ "

Theodore's eyes widened with realization. "You think we're going to abandon her?"

"I think you're underestimating your differences. I think you're being selfish."

" _Selfish?"_ said Draco, biting back the growl that was in his throat.

"Mr. Granger," Tobias spoke up. "We don't treat Hermione any differently. She's one of our bestfriends—we would do _anything_ to keep her safe."

"Yeah, like fighting a giant murderous snake." Said Theodore.

"As I've heard." Mr. Granger said. "Please don't feel insulted, boys. I'm merely a father looking into the best interest of my daughter. When she was first accepted to Hogwarts, Monica and I were worried she wouldn't find any friends—being who she was."

"But now she has us." Draco snapped.

"And I expected it to stay that way." Mr. Granger said firmly. "But if you believe that Hermione will be treated the same as you all, then you all are naïve."

"So what are you saying?" Tobias asked.

"I just want to know where your head is with my daughter. I want to know that you all will be there for her in the long run—that you won't split when the path gets bumpy."

Draco shook his head. "We would never do that to Hermione. She's like family to us."

"And family doesn't turn their back on family." Theodore nodded.

At those words, Mr. Granger lets a small grin appear on his lips. "Well said Mister Nott. Now—back to this topic of Quidditch."

* * *

Pansy sat on the other end of Hermione's bed. If she had known that Granger was going to just stick her head in a book when they arrived upstairs, she would've stayed downstairs with the boys. But after a while, Granger's book reading became a bit…interesting. Usually, Hermione would've flipped through at least ten pages in five minutes—but yet it was like she was barely turning the page, or reading the book.

"Alright." The girl said. "What's on your mind?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot Granger. You've been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. Something's bothering you."

Hermione set down her book, and her face showed that something was eating her up—Pansy just needed to know what it was. She was getting better, however, with their new friendship. After being surrounded by boys for two years, Hermione never knew how refreshing it was to actually have a girl to talk to. She tried being friends with Ginny last term, but with the whole Chamber of Secrets thing going on—they didn't have much time to create a bond. But her friendship with Pansy was satisfying. She was uncomfortable at first—the Slytherin girl being so straightforward and blunt. But over the summer, she learned to appreciate Pansy's personality—they were like opposites. She couldn't believe she was thinking it, but Pansy Parkinson may be the only other female who knew her best other than her mother.

"I'm not getting any younger here, Granger."

Hermione sighed closing her book. "It's nothing, I'm just worried about Theodore. His anger, and now this."

"You should see his house." Said Pansy. "It looks like a battlefield in there. Did he tell you what happened?"

The other girl shook his head. "He didn't say much, just something about his grandmother."

"That wench, Isabell Nott. Apparently, she said something about Theodore's mother. And we all know how Theodore is about his mother."

"His mother has always been a sensitive topic." Hermione said softly. "I just never knew how sensitive."

Pansy sniffed. "It's because you don't know. None of the pureblood women favor his mother. From what I've heard from their 'polite' discussions, she was raised by muggles—it wasn't until her sixth or seventh year at Hogwarts when she finally found out she was pureblood."

"But why would they dislike her? If she's one of them?"

"Because she wasn't raised to live up to the standards of a pureblood woman." Pansy rolled her eyes at this. "It's complete garbage. But everyone believes that Theodore acts the way he does because he's been 'poisoned' by the muggles' heritage."

Pansy could see the fire that ignited in Hermione's eyes once she had spoken, but watched as they quickly died out. Something else was wrong, not just Theodore—and the Slytherin girl just figured out what it was.

"Everyone knows now." Hermione said, setting her book aside. "About me being muggle born."

"Granger, you know we don't care about that. _You_ don't care about that."

"But it's going to be different now—people are going to openly show it."

Pansy rolled her eyes again. "And you could turn them into a rabbit by the time they even got the first insult out of their mouth."

"I don't care about _them._ " Said the other girl, and Pansy could hear her voice cracking a little. "I care about you guys."

"You think we're going to start calling you names? You've taken a new height in over-analyzing, Granger."

Hermione shook her head. "No!" She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "All my friends are pureblood wizards—for two years, I've been hiding in the shadows. But now—I just feel like…"

"You feel like we might give you the cold shoulder?" Pansy raised a brow.

"Not necessarily the cold shoulder. But I feel like you all may treat me differently. Because how other people are going to begin to treat me. And you guys are the only friends I've found at Hogwarts, and I know I shouldn't be caught up in friends but—"

"Okay, stop." Pansy interrupted her. "That's not going to happen. Those boys can't even function for three days without you. Last year when you were—you know—Theodore barely spoke. _Theodore._ "

Hermione laughed a bit and Pansy was glad to see she was cheering up. The Slytherin girl crossed over the bed, taking Hermione's hands in hers.

"We are your friends, Hermione Granger. And nothing and no one is going to change that."

* * *

"Why does all the cool stuff happen when I run away?"

Later, that night the boys found themselves camping in the Granger's living room. Theodore had taken siege of the couch while the other two Slytherins made a palette on the floor. The room was dark except for the flickering light from what Mr. Granger called the "television." Theodore kept flicking through the channels before finally stopping on a Batman cartoon.

"It wouldn't have happened." Draco growled. "If you hadn't ran away in the first place."

Theodore scoffed. "And stayed there with my evil troll of a grandmother? No, thank you."

Tobias didn't say anything, his mind barely focused on the conversation beside him—his attention nowhere near the flashing picture on the television screen. His mind had wandered back to earlier that night, where he was attacked by that big black dog. He couldn't get over the fact that he felt connected to whatever it was. It was too calm to be a dog—it almost felt human. But the strangest thing was that Tobias couldn't remember where he had seen that dog—all he knew was that he had seen it before.

"Really, cartoons?"

The boys turned around to see Pansy and Hermione standing behind them. Hermione was still in her pajamas and Pansy was still wearing her Slytherin jumper, along with a pair of shorts that Hermione had given her to wear for the night. They walked around the couch, Pansy sliding onto the couch beside Theodore and Hermione sitting next to Draco.

"Wicked right?" said Theodore. "And I've been reading comics all this time."

Tobias then stood up, positioning himself in front of the television.

"Hey, I was watching that!"

" _Theo._ "

Tobias looked to all his friends. "I think I know who the dog was—who attacked me."

Hermione frowned. "Dog? What dog?"

"Long story." Pansy said quickly.

"Can we take a step backwards?" asked Draco. "You said you know _who_ the dog was? As in you think it's a person?"

"What dog?!" Hermione asked furiously.

"Before we got on the Knight Bus to come to your house, I was attacked by a dog." Tobias explained, eager to get to his point. "Well, the dog wasn't actually attacking me—it was looking at me. Or into me. Like it knew me—and for some reason, I felt like I knew it too. I feel like I've seen that dog before."

Everyone was silent now, waiting for Tobias to continue explaining.

"I think the dog was Sirius Black."

Theodore's mouth dropped open. "You mean your murderous cousin that's on the loose?"

"You think he's an animagus?" Hermione asked, now intrigued.

Tobias shrugged. "He could be. I don't know. Hermione, you said he was one of my grandfather's top followers. He was sent to Azkaban three months after my first birthday—I could've seen him before then."

"But Tobias," Pansy frowned. "That was twelve years ago."

"And that's the frustrating part, because how can I feel connected to someone I've may have only seen once…twelve years ago?"

Draco shrugged. "Family connection? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he was almost second in command to Voldemort and you're Voldemort's heir?"

"I don't feel like it's that." Tobias shook his head, now pacing the room. "I don't even know if it's Black, but I've never seen this dog until now—a month after Black escapes."

"I think you're being paranoid." Said Theodore. "I mean…nobody knows what Azkaban did to Black. His allegiance might've changed. You know—like how Jason Todd wanted to kill Batman when he came back from the dead."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why would Jason Todd want to kill Batman? Weren't they on the same team?"

"They were." Theodore continued. "But Jason became furious when he found out that Batman didn't kill the Joker after the Joker killed him. He became Batman's enemy."

Tobias stopped pacing. "So you're saying that—"

"He's saying," Hermione interrupted, catching on to Theodore's analogy. "That Black may be back for revenge against your grandfather."

Pansy crossed her legs. "Well, I guess we found our mystery for the term."

"Revenge?" Tobias blinked. "Why would Black want revenge on my grandfather?"

"I don't know." Answered Hermione. "But think about what Theodore said, despite that it's based off a fictional story. The sources that I found on Black claimed that he didn't put up a fight against the Ministry, he just stood there laughing in the middle of the street— _thirteen_ muggles were dead, Tobias. And he just stood there, and let the Ministry take him to Azkaban."

Draco turned to look at her. "You think he wanted to be caught?"

"Maybe. Maybe your grandfather promised him something—or maybe Black expected something because of what he did and Voldemort didn't deliver. And now Black's back."

Theodore scratched his head. "But if the dog _is_ Black, why was he wandering around my house and not Tobias's?"

"Because I wasn't there."

Tobias was finally catching on. He could feel his heart racing—the hairs on the back of his neck standing up once more. He could feel his body tensing as he accepted the truth—the terrifying truth that was to come.

"And if he wasn't at LeStrange Manor…" Draco trailed off.

"Then, his target isn't your grandfather, Tobias." Said Hermione. "It's you."

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! School is really kicking my butt. There is more to come!**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	41. POA3: Anger, Patience, and the Truth

Dangerous love

You're no good for me, darling

Yeah, you turn me away

Like I'm begging for a dollar

I get a chill inside

And nothing frightens me, baby

~ Leave Me Lonely x Ariana Grande

Chapter 41: Anger, Patience, and the Truth

"Do you believe him?"

Draco didn't know the answer to that question. It was so simple—yes or no. But it wasn't that simple. It was never that simple. He could barely remember the days when it was. But now his mind was running with so many thoughts—so many possibilities—that saying "yes" would mean one thing and "no" would mean something completely different.

He shrugged, turning to look at the bushy-haired witch beside him. He pulled out a patch of grass with his fist, trying to find the right answer. "I don't know. Do you?"

"I believe that Black is after him." Hermione sighed. "Or _something_ else _._ Why else would he finally escape Azkaban after twelve years?"

"But why Tobias?"

The witch brought her knees to her chest. "It would make sense. Maybe Voldemort took away something he cared about, and now he wants to return the favor. And who's the person Lord Voldemort cares the most about?"

Draco nodded. "Tobias."

"But that shouldn't be a problem." Said Hermione. "No doubt that everyone, even Voldemort himself, is taking precautions to make sure Black doesn't get to Tobias."

The blonde Slytherin sighed. "I'm not so worried about Black getting to Tobias, as I am Tobias trying to get to Black."

The words caught her off guard. "And why would he do that? Tobias isn't foolish enough to go after someone who's trying to kill him."

"He would if he knew."

"Knew what?"

Draco turned towards her, and Hermione knew that something else was going on in his head. That all this time he hadn't just been thinking about what happened earlier that night. She knew from his eyes it was killing him—she always knew.

"Knew what, Draco?" She repeated, unfolding her legs into the grass of her backyard.

"One night I heard my mother and fatherarguing,, " The blonde Slytherin said, his expression unreadable, his voice firm."—they were arguing about Black. Then, they brought up Tobias….and his father."

Hermione seemed confused. "Tobias's father? What does he have to do with Black?"

"Black—" He paused, trying to decide if he could go on. But he had to tell someone. Someone who could understand why he was keeping it a secret. Why he never told Tobias. "Black killed his father. Rodolphous LeStrange was murdered by Sirius Black."

The witch felt like a gust of wind had just rushed against her vocal cords. She didn't know what to say. She felt her insides twitching—because she knew that Draco hadn't told Tobias. But why was he telling her?

"Does Tobias know?"

"No." But she knew the answer.

Hermione shook her head. "Draco, we have to tell him."

"No," The boy said quickly. "He doesn't need to know."

"Tobias thinks that Black is after him because of his grandfather—what if it's actually because he wants to finish off the LeStrange family? Who's to say he didn't kill Bellatrix in Azkaban?"

"Bellatrix is still alive." Said Draco, not even phased by the question. "If Tobias finds out that Black killed his father he will go after Black. And Black may kill him or even worse—Tobias may lose control again."

"Black killed his father" Hermione hissed. "—Tobias needs to know this."

"And then what?!" Draco snapped. "Tobias kills Black and now he's off to Azkaban-"

"He's your cousin, Draco!"

"And I'm trying to protect him! And I need you to help me. If Tobias finds this out now, he may not even step on the train for Hogwarts. He'll go straight after Black, _without_ us—and then who knows what might happen. I can't let that happen, Hermione."

The witch opened her mouth to say something else, but she closed it. Draco was right—they all knew that when Tobias set his mind to something, he wouldn't stop until he succeeded. These past two years they've been surviving the impossible by the grace of Merlin—but how long would it be until that grace ran out? She knew what Draco meant—Black was a murderer—and he didn't want Tobias dead for the sake of a prophecy like the young Tom Riddle did last term—he wanted revenge.

"You're the only person I can trust with this, Hermione." And the girl could see that speck of blue in his eyes. "Please."

"Fine." She finally said, but immediately regretted her answer. "But I still think we should tell him."

Draco sighed—she wasn't going to give up on this. "Hermione—"

"I understand not now, but he needs to know. And if you hide it from him for too long, Draco, it'll come out in the worse way possible. He may never forgive you."

The blonde Slytherin didn't respond to this but the feeling in his stomach became worse. _He may never forgive you._ He knew it. He knew the risks. But times were getting darker, he could feel it. The way the sunshine didn't really feel like sunshine anymore—the way it did when they were younger. It seemed like the nights were getting darker.

Ever since the Chamber of Secrets, Draco made a vow to himself. That he would do anything to protect Theodore and Tobias. They were his bestfriends—even more than that. They were his brothers. And with everything going on, it seemed right to do this. Though it made his throat dry and his stomach clench with guilt, he felt like he was doing the right thing to protect his brothers. To protect Tobias.

Black wasn't going to get to Tobias, no matter how hard he tried. Draco Malfoy would make sure of that.

* * *

If Voldemort knew how much of a temper James Potter had, he would've reconsidered taking his child under his wing. Dumbledore warned him that the traits of his parents would arise in the boy, he just didn't think it would be this soon. He honestly thought Dumbledore was bluffing, seeing as it took twelve years for the boy to actually start resembling the behavior of his birth parents. But leave it to something simple as Hogsmeade to let it out.

"What do you mean you're not letting me go to Hogsmeade?" Tobias asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

August had rolled in and the heirs were receiving their Hogwarts letters. Third years were now permitted to visit Hogsmeade on certain weekends, if and only if their legal guardian signed the permission slip. However, Voldemort had decided to prevent Tobias from going. The more sheltered he was, the better.

"Tobias," He said, sliding the permission slip back across the table. "There is a mass murderer on the loose. And as your legal guardian, it is my responsibility to protect you."

"Protect me from what, Grandfather?" Tobias laughed mockingly. "Haven't I proven time and time again that I can defend myself?"

"You haven't battled against someone who _actually_ wants to harm you, Tobias."

The boy scoffed. "Who's going to attack me in Hogsmeade? The lady from Honeydukes?!"

"You know very well who would want to attack you." Voldemort snapped. "You've read the papers— you're a smart boy. I've raised you to read between the lines."

"And I can stop him. Just like I stopped Quirrell."

His grandfather sniffed. "You stopped Quirrell out of anger. Your magic reacted from your emotions. Do you honestly _think_ Black is going to wait for you throw a tantrum before he prepares to kill you? What reason do you have to be angry at Sirius Black?"

Tobias went silent.

"You're not going to Hogsmeade." Said Voldemort, slipping the permission slip in his robes. "And I don't want to hear anything else about it."

He stood up, balancing himself carefully on his cane. He took a few steps before stopping beside his grandson, who was still sitting in the chair across from his desk. The dark wizard knew his mind was wondering—he knew he was thinking about Black. He didn't need occulmency to figure out that his heir was worried. The rumors were spreading about Black being one of the Dark Lord's most faithful followers—his "crime" of murdering thirteen muggles. These were the lies that protected the truth. That Wormtail wasn't murdered that night. That Sirius Black had returned, and that he was coming for his godson. Harry Potter.

He laid a hand on Tobias's shoulder, causing the boy to look up at him.

"Do not see this as punishment, my grandson." Voldemort said carefully. "I have many enemies, enemies who I once saw as allies, who would do anything to see me fall from grace. And I am afraid that they will try to get to me through you."

Tobias shook his head. "But—"

"You are my only heir, Tobias. Not only are you my heir, but you are my grandson—the last remaining member of the LeStrange bloodline. If anything happens to you, I will never be able to forgive myself."

Voldemort then walked out of the room, leaving his heir sitting in his study. Tobias didn't know what to think. He knew his grandfather was right in a sense—but he didn't know. He didn't know that Tobias had faced someone who wanted to actually kill him. Voldemort didn't know that his own younger-self wanted his grandson dead in the Chamber of Secrets. He then thought about Quirrell—trying to channel that anger that made him kill the former professor. But he couldn't.

He then thought about Sirius Black. Nobody knew where he was—where he was hiding. It had been a few weeks since he encountered the black dog. He was now starting to think it wasn't Black. Surely if Tobias was the Azkaban escapee's target, he would've tried again to get to him. But yet there were no more sightings of the dog or any news on Black himself. It was like he disappeared after that night.

But where did he disappear to? And where would he be next?

* * *

Sirius snapped his fingers, watching as his hair dried itself. He stared at his reflection—he had finally shaved after his twelve years of captivity. He never realized how much he had aged—he hadn't been able to look at himself properly since he was taken away. To be honest, he hadn't truly been himself since he was sentenced to Azkaban. He snorted at this thought. _Sentenced._ He wasn't sentenced at all—they just took him. No questions asked. No trial. Nothing.

He didn't know what to do with himself. With this cursed freedom. Only to find Harry. After all these years, he thought his godson was dead. But seeing him that night broke something in him—it reminded him how things could have been different. It made him angry. All those years the Order, his _friends_ , let him rot in Azkaban—had him believe his godson was dead, when he could've been raising Harry. When he could've been the godfather that boy deserved. Now the boy saw him as a stranger—he barely recognized him. He recalled Remus's words from the other night.

" _Even if we tell him the truth, he won't be the same. He won't be Harry—he'll be what Voldemort made him into._ "

He closed his eyes, the anger rising in his gut. Why didn't anybody do anything? Why did they all just sit there and allow Voldemort to take James's and Lily's son? They sat back and watched as Voldemort raised their son—for _thirteen years_.

Roaring in frustration, Sirius rammed his fist into the mirror. It shattered at his touch, immediately drawing small trails of blood from his hand. But he didn't care.

"I forgot how much of a temper you had, Sirius."

The black- haired man turned around, his stony facial expression never changing as he eyed the old wizard standing in his room. Dumbledore looked the same—that whimsical smile forever on his face. It was like he was content on Harry being raised by Voldemort. It made his anger even worse.

Sirius waved his hand, causing the broken glass shards to hover off the ground—putting themselves back in their respective places as if they were completing a puzzle. "What do you want?"

"Remus told me you were staying here." The old wizard said calmly. "I wanted to see you."

"If you're here to persuade me not to go to Hogwarts, you're wasting your time. I'll tell you like I told Moony, I'm going. I'm going to find my godson. And then I'm going to tell him the truth."

"I'm not here to stop you, Sirius."

Sirius scoffed. "Then why are you here?"

"You speak to me like I'm your enemy." said Dumbledore, taking a seat on the guest bed. "Care to tell what is really bothering you?"

The other man turned around back to the mirror, watching his face change from his younger self to what he was now. Quickly watching as the years played back in his head—leading to that one moment.

"I've missed twelve years of his life, rotting in Azkaban. And you knew I was innocent."

Dumbledore sighed. "We weren't sure—"

"No," Sirius shook his head. "I don't care if they weren't sure. You _knew_ I was innocent. You _knew_ that Peter was still alive. Yet you let me rot in Azkaban!"

"By the time I figured out you were innocent, Sirius, it was already too late. It had been a year after your arrest, and Voldemort had disappeared with Harry. You wouldn't have understood."

"What wouldn't I have understood? How could I understand that you let my _godson_ be taken by the man who murdered his parents? My best friend. My brother. You kept me out of his life!"

"Because you would've endangered him, Sirius!" Dumbledore shot back. "The first thing you did when you found out Peter betrayed Lily and James was go after Peter. You didn't think about that boy. You didn't go to Godric's Hallow to protect them—to protect Harry. You have always gone towards the danger without actually thinking. And now you have the gall to blame this on us?"

Sirius didn't know what to say. For once, in a long time, he could see the pain in Dumbledore's eyes. It was the same pain he had seen in Lupin's when he told him the truth. And it resembled the same pain he felt in his gut.

"We all wanted to do something." Dumbledore's voice was softer this time. "After everything that has happened, I can't help but blame myself. But if you could see him, Sirius, really see him as I have these past two years, you would be proud of him. Every day he resembles James and Lily, and that is what gives me hope. That is what keeps us moving."

"I just want to see him." The man said, his voice cracking.

The old man nodded. "And I won't stop you. I only ask one thing of you Sirius—that when you see him, that you will wait to tell him the truth."

"Professor, I—I" He could feel the tears rolling down his face—the pain swallowing him whole. "I can't."

Dumbledore stood up, facing Sirius. "If you love him like you say you do, Sirius, you will do it. It is the only way we can keep him safe. Otherwise, we lose him forever."

There was a loud _crack_ and Dumbledore was gone, leaving Sirius in the guest room alone once more. He sat on the bed, barely feeling his limbs making contact with the mattress. He felt numb—sick even. For the first time in two months, he wished he was back in Azkaban. He wished he had never known that Harry was still alive—the pain was too much to bear. Now he must watch his godson grow up without him—never knowing that Sirius Black is his godfather. And when he did find out, would it even matter?

Harry was the only thing that could remind him of James. Now he had nothing.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban many times. Whether it was with his wife to visit her deranged sister, Bellatrix—or some errand for the Ministry. But this visit was different—everything depended on this visit. His brief time in Azkaban helped him gain an understanding of what it was actually like—he didn't blame Black for escaping. Being locked away for so long, you forget what the world feels like. Time passes, but the only difference you can tell is the wrinkling of your skin, the change of your hair.

As he progressed down to the deepest chamber of the prison, he wondered if the prisoners could feel the days changing. It was starting again—the training, the recruiting. Could they feel it? And if they didn't, it was Lucius's job to make sure they felt it. To make sure they were ready.

"Crouch." The guard named Magnus barked. "You have a visitor."

Out of the darkness arose a man. He was about Lucius's height, maybe a little shorter. His dirty, straw blonde hair fell to his shoulders, his face covered in brown stubble. He had the same prison tattoos most inmates had—the most visible one being his prison number. "V11981."

"Lucius." The man hissed gleefully, his yellow teeth sparkling in the dim light. "How long has it been, old friend?"

"Twelve years." Replied the blonde man.

The other man chuckled. "Seems like yesterday we were ruling the world—having mudbloods and wizards bow at our feet. Oh, how times have changed."

Lucius smiled softly. "You know what they say—history tends to repeat itself."

"And so it does. Have you spoken to my father?"

"I have. He has agreed, but with one condition."

The prisoner frowned. "Of course. Did he say when?"

"We haven't decided yet."

"Rivers know this," Crouch smiled once more. "There is no hurry-"

"We shall get there one day." The blonde man nodded. "Patience. Don't give up on us yet, brother."

He grabbed for Crouch's hand, who gripped his tightly in return. He could see the pride in his eyes. He could see it—the power, the greed. It was like watching a child—their eyes lighting up for the first time. They knew times were changing. And a small wave of fear swept over Lucius.

"Never," said Crouch, his voice hard and firm. " _Hail Voldemort._ "

"Times up." Magnus grunted.

Crouch released his hand, disappearing into the darkness once more. As Lucius turned to follow the Azkaban guard back up the steps, he could hear the man humming softly. He knew the song—it was a muggle lullaby, but it gave him chills up his spine. He could feel the goosebumps forming on the back of his neck as Crouch sung the words.

" _I've got no strings, to hold me down. To make me fret or make me frown. I had strings but now I'm free. There are no strings on me."_

* * *

"It's the fastest broom out there." The cashier at Quality Quidditch Supplies told Tobias. "Ireland just ordered seven of these bad puppies."

It was a great sales pitch, but Tobias took a raincheck on buying a new broom. He hadn't lost a game with his Nimbus Two Thousand and One—it would've been wasteful to buy a whole new broom when his current one was in perfect condition. He should know, he spent the whole summer cleaning it. But to be honest, he wasn't exactly excited to return to school. He was sure that everyone had gotten their Hogsmeade letter signed. He would soon have to break the news that he wasn't allowed to go.

"Maybe another time." Said Draco, bringing Tobias out of his thoughts.

It was the day before school and the three heirs were sent to retrieve their school supplies from Diagon Alley. They were also supposed to meet up with Ron, Neville, and Hermione. Theodore, who wasn't really a big fan of Quidditch, went to Flourish and Blotts to buy his textbooks. Draco also didn't buy himself a new broom, which surprised Tobias. He only bought a pair of riding gloves.

They had already visited Madam Malkin's—all three in need of new robes. Tobias and Theodore had grown a few inches taller, but as always, Draco was still taller than them both—his robes now looking as if he took them from a first-year. The blonde Slytherin was also wearing his hair differently—his hair was at least to his shoulders when it wasn't confined in the neat ponytail that resembled his father's. Theodore had cut his off, leaving a low cut that reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle. This certainly seemed like the year for changes.

As Tobias and Draco walked into Flourish and Blotts, they quickly regretted leaving Theodore alone to get his books. They found the place was in total chaos—pages and books flying everywhere. And in the center of it was Theodore and the store manager, both chasing what seemed like a small creature.

"Get back here!" Theodore gritted, his hands held out to capture the creature.

Tobias frowned. "Is that a book?"

"The Monster Book of Monsters, yes." The store manager huffed, stopping his chase to speak to his new customers. "I'm never stocking them again—I've been bitten five times already this morning. _Ouch!_ Make that six."

"Hagrid better have a good explanation for this." Said Theodore, who had finally caught his book. "This is worse than the time they ordered the Invisible Book of Invisibility. I still can't find my copy."

The store manager came back with two more copies of the Monster Book, handing one to Draco and Tobias. "The rest of your books are on the counter. If you all would follow me, we can continue with payment."

As they followed the store manager, another book caught Tobias's eye. He froze staring at the title of the book. _Death Omens- What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming._

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you." The store manager called from the counter. "The last guy who bought it returned it the next day—said he started seeing death omens everywhere. Chap seemed like he was almost spooked to death."

Tobias looked at him. "Did he say what the death omens looked like?"

"No. But honestly, they can look like anything. People, plants, animals—there's no specific form."

Tobias nodded, immediately thinking about the stray dog he had seen that night at Theodore's. Everything was starting to change, everything was feeling different—and then this black dog appears out of nowhere. Sirius Black escapes from prison. His training was becoming harder and more intense. What if the dog was a sign of the things about to come?

"Finally!" He heard another voice. "We've been looking for you three for the past thirty minutes."

Tobias turned around to see Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom walking through the door. Ron had also gotten taller, probably taller than Draco or maybe the same height—his skin a bit tanner from his time in Egypt. Neville had grown some too, but his clumsiness did not go away. He wasted no time to bump into a display of books, knocking them all over the store floor.

"You have?" asked Tobias.

Hermione nodded. "We honestly didn't expect you three to be in Flourish and Blotts. We literally checked everywhere but here."

"Ah, Miss Granger." The store manager grunted, slamming a tower of books on the counter. "I was wondering when you were coming to retrieve your textbooks."

The five boys frowned as they looked at the tower of books. Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, Astronomy, and more. Draco frowned as he noticed there were way more books than what was listed on his school list.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Granger?" He asked. Ron and Theodore sniggered, but Hermione ignored them.

"Have you all gotten the rest of your school things?" The witch asked as she paid the store manager for her books.

All the boys nodded.

"Well great!" Hermione said excitedly. "Now you all can help me buy myself a birthday present. My parents gave me some extra money before they dropped me off."

Theodore turned to face the bookshelves. "Well that should be easy, what book don't you have already, Hermione?"

"I don't want a book."

The boys once again gave her a confused/shocked look. She had to repress the urge to roll her eyes. "I don't want a book. I want an owl. Everyone has one except me."

"Not me." Ron corrected her. "Errol's the family owl. All I have is Scabbers." He pulled the rat out of his pocket, and everyone noticed the sudden change in Scabbers appearance.

"What's wrong with him?" Neville asked.

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think Egypt agreed with him. If we're going to the magical creature shop, I want to get him checked over."

"Or buried." Draco said with a hint of disgust.

The six made their way inside the magical creature shop, but they could barely fit inside. The shop was covered in cages, holding creatures of all types. Double-ended newts. Tortoises. Purple Toads. Cats of every color imaginable. The boys waited while Hermione looked for an owl. As they waited, Ron and Theodore went to the counter, where an old witch with big black spectacles was standing.

"Can I help you?" She said irritably.

"It's my rat," Ron said, setting Scabbers on the counter. "He's been a bit off- color since I brought him back from Egypt."

The witch looked at Scabbers carefully. He looked nothing like the rats in the cage beside them. His hair seemed to be shedding and his whiskers drooped lower than usual. If Ron didn't know any better, he would've thought his rat was depressed.

"How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," replied the ginger. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

The witch nodded. "What powers does he have?"

Theodore seemed confused. "Powers?"

"Er—" Ron started. "I don't think—"

"He's been through the mill, this one. Do you know he's missing a toe?"

Ron frowned. "He was like that when Percy gave him to me."

"And he's still alive," The witch said breathlessly. "Amazing. Garden rats like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so."

She pointed to the other cage of rats. "Now if you want something more hard-wearing you might like—oh no—"

Before Theodore and Ron could realize what the witch was saying "oh no" to, something big and orange leaped from the top of the highest cage, landing on top of Ron's head.

"OUCH!" Ron roared. "Theodore help!"

"I don't think I want to." Theodore said, backing away slowly. The Slytherin jumped as the creature leaped from Ron's head and straight towards Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" The witch cried, but it was too late. Scabbers had leaped from the counter, his legs scurrying quickly towards the door.

Ron ran quickly after the rat, pushing through the other customers in the store. Theodore was right behind him. Hermione, Draco, Tobias, and Neville watched them run out of the shop. Neville sighed. "I'll go follow them."

After Neville left, Draco, Tobias, and Hermione looked towards the counter, watching as the witch was scowling at the orange creature.

"What is that?" Draco asked.

"It looks like a cat." Hermione said in awe. "I think I know what I want for my birthday."

Tobias chuckled. "Hermione, you can't be serious. That thing nearly scalped Ron."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to. Anyway, it's common for cats to chase rats. Scabbers was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She walked towards the counter, Draco and Tobias behind her. As they approached, the witch had just finished shoving the cat named Crookshanks back in his cage. She turned to face the three third years.

"Sorry about your friend's rat," She said. "Crookshanks is usually the calm one in the shop." She then set a vial of green tonic on the counter. "This is for your buddy's rat. He forgot to get it."

"Thank you," Hermione said politely, slipping it into her bag. "How much is that cat?"

"Crookshanks? Uhhh, I never really thought of a price. Nobody really wants to buy him. He's been here for ages."

The bushy- haired witch smiled. "I want to buy him."

"You sure?" The witch asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I mean—you did see him try to mangle your friend's rat, right?"

"That's not going to change her mind." Said Draco. "How much is it?"

The witch eyed Hermione, but it didn't change the gleeful expression on her face. The witch finally sighed. "Ten Galleons."

Draco's mouth dropped. "Ten Galleons? For that old—"

He was stopped as Hermione covered his mouth. "I'll take him."

"Ron's going to have a hippogriff when he sees that." Said Tobias, laughing as Hermione paid for her new pet.

Draco snorted. "Forget Weasley—his bloody rat's going to have a stroke."

* * *

"Again."

" _Imperio!_ "

" _Again._ "

" _IMPERIO!"_

The more times he said it, the more irritated Atlas became. They had been at it for hours—the same spell over and over again. He was growing restless—he wanted to stop.

"You have to mean it!" Riddle hissed. "You _want_ to control it."

The boy looked down at his target, a small dog he had found in the woods one day. He didn't want to hurt the dog—it hadn't done anything wrong. He couldn't do it.

"Is this really necessary?" Atlas asked, dropping his wand. "It's just a baby."

"Yes. It is. You want to be ready—this is how you get ready. You will be facing those who won't think twice about controlling you. But you have to get there first—and if you want to get there first, you _have to mean it._ Now, again!"

Atlas nodded, aiming his wand once more at the small dog. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the dog being his enemy.

" _Imperio!"_

He opened his eyes, watching as the dog's eyes went out of focus and then returning back to normal. He could tell the creature was now in a trance—he had done it.

Riddle nodded. "Now. Command it."

"Bark." Atlas said firmly.

The small dog barked.

"Sit."

The dog sat.

"Chase your tail." And the dog did just that.

"Excellent." Riddle nodded. " _Finite Incantartem._ "

The dog stopped chasing its tail. Not understanding what had happened, the creature ran quickly back towards the woods, leaving Tom Riddle and Atlas alone.

"You did good, but you need to be better. You're restricting your magic. You're being cautious. Your enemies won't be cautious—their magic won't be restricted."

"You know," said Atlas, now annoyed. "You're always telling me what I did wrong. Always telling me that I'm not ready—but you won't even tell me what I'm training for. You keep telling me to be patient, but I can tell something's happening." He lifted up his sleeve, revealing his dark mark. "I can feel it."

Tom Riddle raised a brow. "You think you're ready?"

"Yes," Atlas said impatiently. "I was ready a year ago, and I'm ready now."

"Prove it. _Imperio."_

It happened so quickly. Atlas could feel the control leaving his body, traveling quickly to the hands of Tom Riddle. The only think he could think about is: What would happen next.

"Listen to my voice." The man said, and Atlas could feel his ears straining to hear more.

"I will command you to do something, and I want you to fight against it. If you're ready, this should be an easy task."

Atlas could feel his heart thumping, but he couldn't help it. He didn't have control over his body. _Fight against it?_ How could he fight against something he had no control of?

He watched as Riddle walked towards him, pulling something out of his pocket. He could hear the man stepping behind him. He soon felt something cold and sharp press against the palm of his fingers. A knife. He felt as Tom Riddle set the knife in his hand, closing his fingers around the handle. Atlas's heart was racing.

" _Stab yourself in the neck_." Riddle hissed in his ear.

The boy's heart dropped. _No. No. No._ Atlas thought desperately, but he could feel his hand slowly rising to stab himself. He closed his eyes, fighting against the control Riddle had over him. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he felt the blade of the knife coming close and closer to his neck. _NO! NO! STOP!_ He cried as the blade pierced his skin. He could feel the stinging, and then the warm trail of blood dripping down his neck.

 _"Finite Incantartem._ " Riddle said calmly, and Atlas's hand dropped immediately. He caught his breath, staring at Riddle, who seemed unsurprised.

"I told you, you are not ready. Had I been someone else, you would've been dead. The spell works both ways. You have to _want_ to gain control—whether you are the one casting the spell, or the one being controlled."

Atlas tucked his wand away. "Can you at least tell me what I'm training for? Maybe—maybe that would motivate me."

Riddle pulled on his cloak. "Death should motivate you." He said simply.

He then disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Atlas watched as the man flew away, leaving him alone in the dirt practice field.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	42. POA4: Train Rides to the Past

Hold, hold on, hold onto me

Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady

Unsteady x X-Ambassadors

Chapter 42: Train Rides to the Past

Remus closed his trunk, locking it with his wand. The apartment was silent—Sirius had left before he woke up. They hadn't spoke—they didn't make eye contact—but Remus knew where he was going. It was the same place he was going. Hogwarts. While Remus was going to teach, Sirius was going to find Harry. Despite all the arguments they had, Remus was glad Sirius decided to go. Call it childish, but Remus missed being at school—at Hogwarts with his friends. It wouldn't be like old times—but with Sirius there, it would at least be sort of nostalgic.

The time read 10:30—thirty minutes before the Hogwarts Express left the station. He took a deep breath—would he see Harry? Just like Sirius, he hadn't seen his godson in twelve years. He tried hard to prepare himself for it—to suppress the urge to run to the boy. Hold him and never let him go. And for a moment he thought he had it under control, but now everything rushed back to him- his heart thumping as he saw himself losing control once he saw Harry. He closed another trunk.

On the wall hung a photo, it was torn and tattered, but you could still see the contents of it clearly. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts—before Voldemort gained power. When everything was actually _simple._ Sirius thought it was a good idea to skip Potion's and go down to the lake. Remus voted against it, seeing as he was a Prefect, but that only fueled Padfoot's idea even further. And despite the risks, it was a wonderful time. It was the last time he could remember them all being together—James, Sirius, Peter, and himself—it was the last memory he had of them being happy. He recalled Peter's smile being so bright, you would have never thought he would become a Death Eater. But of course, nothing lasts forever.

He took the photo off the wall, slipping it into his coat pocket. He would imagine that his whole ride to Hogwarts will be filled with old memories—both good and bad. It was one of the reasons why he didn't want to take the position. But now he found himself committing hypocrisy. He knew the risks, of course, but there was no harm in wanting to see Harry. Was it? To guide him as a student—but deep down he knew he would be doing it for James. To make sure that his son ended up on the right side. That in the end, Voldemort didn't win.

10:45. 15 minutes before he would have to face it all again. He had always dreamed of stepping into Hogwarts again—looking at the students'' innocent smiles and hearing their laughter. Knowing that they didn't have anything to be afraid of. That the hard times were over. That they wouldn't endure what he once endured. But that wouldn't be the case—he would be stepping into the abyss all over again. The crooked smiles of those who knew but would pretend everything is okay. The fear. The paranoia. Could he bear to watch it happen all over again?

10:50. He had no choice.

* * *

Breakfast at the Leaky Cauldron was probably the best thing that the guests have seen in years. Thank God for magic or it would've taken ages for Mrs. Weasley to feed everybody. Tobias was lucky that Theodore came up with the idea to spend the night at the pub, they would have missed it. The smell of eggs, bacon, toast, oatmeal, and sausage woke them up—making this one of the best mornings they've had since summer began.

Mr. Weasley's face lit up first as the heirs walked downstairs. "Tobias! How are you?"

"I'm fine." Tobias responded with his usual Slytherin politeness. "How about you?"

The older man sighed, unfolding the _Daily Prophet._ "Exhausted. Fudge has pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find Black, but we've had no luck so far."

"I've heard they put out a reward for his capture." Said Draco, swallowing a mouthful of oatmeal.

Ron's head shot up. "Reward?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "There's no reward. Just some nonsense to get everyone looking for him. Besides," He set the newspaper down on the table. "Sirius Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back. You mark my words."

"And they've done just as well as the Ministry."

Tobias turned to see Ginny come down the steps, her usual teasing smile on her face. He felt his heart skip a beat—she had certainly changed as well. She no longer looked like the innocent first year he met last year. She didn't seem as shy as she was before. He was glad that the events from the last term didn't ruin her spirit. She looked like a completely different person—strong and ready for anything that came her way.

"Now, now Ginny." Said Mr. Weasley. "We just can't let those dementors roam on their own. It would be chaos."

"Goodmorning, everyone!"

Percy was next, and the six friends (well all except Hermione) had to hold in their laughter as the boy strutted down the steps—his head boy badge flashing for everyone to see.

Theodore sniggered. "Well, Goodmorning Percy. Or should I say _Head Boy_?"

"Oh no, Theo." Fred snorted. "Not Head Boy."

George nodded. "I think the proper term would be Head Doofus."

The other twin snapped his finger. "Head Prat."

"Head Pratendoofus." Said Theodore.

The twins nodded, smirks on their face. "Wicked."

"Oh quit it." Percy scoffed. "You're all just jealous that I was made Head Boy and you two weren't made prefects this year."

George frowned. "What do we want to be prefects for?"

"It'd take all the fun out of life." Fred added in, his face equally frowned.

"Maybe," Mrs. Weasley said, walking in with another plate of bacon. "You would want to set a better example for your sister!"

Percy smiled, carefully buttering a piece of toast. "It's fine Mother. Ginny's got other brothers to set an example for her." He then narrowed his eyes at Fred and George. "Ones that won't lock the other brother in a pyramid in Egypt!"

"That's enough." Mr. Weasley said, getting up from the table. "Everyone hurry and finish your breakfast, the cars from the Ministry will be here any minute."

"Ministry cars?" asked Percy.

"Of course." George said mockingly. "You didn't hear. Each one has little flags on the hood, with HB on them."

"For Humongous Bighead." Smiled Fred. "Just for you Perce."

Percy rolled his eyes. "Father?"

"Well," the older man started. "for one, we don't have a car anymore. And two, since I work there, they're doing me a favor."

Tobias wasn't paying much attention to what Mr. Weasley was saying. He had noticed that the man's ears had turned red—just like Ron's when he was hiding something. From that observation, Tobias could tell that this wasn't the reason he had arranged Ministry cars to take them to King's Cross.

The man cleared his throat. "Tobias could I speak to you for a moment. Before the cars arrive?"

"Of course." Said the Slytherin. He arose from the table, ignoring the questionable looks from Draco and Hermione. Theodore had returned to his new position as Fred and George's prank manager, Ron was stuffing his face as usual, and Neville had left breakfast moments before, going to check his trunk to make sure he had everything.

He walked over to the far side of the pub, where Mr. Weasley was waiting for him. The man had a worried look on his face, and Tobias was more than sure what the reason for his expression was.

"Sit, Tobias." Mr. Weasley said.

The Slytherin did as he was told, his ears eager for what the older man had to tell him.

"I'm sure you've been keeping up with the papers." He continued. "I want to make sure you're taking the proper precautions for the school year."

"Mr. Weasley," Tobias had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "I'll be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

The older man sighed. "Same thing Molly said. But what you all don't understand…is that we thought Azkaban was safe. And if Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."

"Mr. Weasley—"

"I'm not trying to spoil the school year for you, Tobias, I swear. But you know how you and your friends are. You lot ended up in the Forbidden Forest—twice! You've escaped death twice, my boy. Do reckon you could do it a third?"

Tobias shook his head, thinking about the black dog and how he hadn't seen it since his birthday—a month ago. Right now, he didn't believe it was Sirius Black any longer. He would've come for him by now. Especially since Tobias was far from LeStrange Manor. "That's if Black was after me. And that's a big 'if', Mr. Weasley."

"It's only a big if because Fudge left it as a big if." Mr. Weasley quickly, and the Slytherin could tell he was becoming impatient. "Everyone knows that Black was your grandfather's biggest supporter and no one knows why Black gave himself up that night in that alley. You-Know-Who let him rot in Azkaban for twelve years, Tobias, and no one knows why. It's obvious Black is back for revenge."

"Even if that's true," Tobias said, his mind now refilled with Sirius Black mysteries, "Black will have a hard time getting in Hogwarts—I've heard the Azkaban guards will be guarding the school, and you're forgetting that Dumbledore is the headmaster."

Mr. Weasley sniffed. "It is true. Nobody knows this—but Fudge went to Azkaban the night Black escaped. Apparently, it was the same night we brought in Lucius Malfoy. The guards told Fudge Black had been talking in his sleep for a while now. Saying the same thing every night: 'He's at Hogwarts….He's at Hogwarts.'"

Tobias felt his insides twist at this.

"Now we both know he wasn't referring to You-Know-Who. So I'll leave it to you to figure out who was talking about."

"So the Ministry cars are for _me_?" Tobias asked, trying to process this new information.

Mr. Weasley nodded.

The Slytherin was speechless. So it was true—Black was after him. But for some reason, he didn't feel afraid. He had faced death twice—survived twice—just like Mr. Weasley said. He had trained for this—all summer he was being pushed to his limits to face people like Black. Not only that, but in a few minutes he would be on his way to Hogwarts—Hogwarts, where Dumbledore would be. Dumbledore—the one man that his grandfather is afraid of. So if Lord Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore, wouldn't Sirius Black feel the same?

* * *

Peter's hair was thinning—he literally felt sick to his stomach. As he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he could see the panic growing in his eyes. He was coming after him. Sirius was free and now he would try to clear his name. Voldemort was after him too, he could feel it. But after twelve years, what could the Dark Lord need him for? He thought he was safe- he thought he was free.

"Ahh." He whimpered, clamping a hand around his left forearm. The Dark Mark. He fell onto the toilet seat, trying to hold in his painful cries. They were coming for him. All of them. How long would he be safe with the Weasleys?

Nobody knew what actually happened that night—and for the past twelve years he had been living peacefully in that lie. Nobody knew that he didn't die that night in the alley—that he cast that curse that killed thirteen muggles. Disappearing in the crossfire and leaving Sirius there along with one finger—the perfect set-up for the perfect crime. And as he scurried away all he could hear was Sirius laughing—he could still hear it in his head.

He didn't want to betray Sirius—he didn't want to betray James. But it was his duty to the Dark Lord—the Dark Lord who had made him everything he wanted to be. Well, thought he wanted to be. Top Lieutenant—in the ranks with Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphous LeStrange. He was everything he could never be in the Marauders—he was everything Lord Voldemort promised him— _everything they could never be._ He looked at his mark—it was now red from his closed hand. Those words were a blessing and a curse. By the time he realized his mistake it was too late. He was now a murderer—fighting out of fear instead of fighting bravely with his friends. But at the time he thought he was making the right choice—choosing the "winning" side. And as the battle ended, Peter realized that he had lost everything. James and Lily were dead, Sirius was in Azkaban, and Remus had gone into hiding.

There was a knock, and the rattling of a doorknob, knocking Peter out of his thoughts.

"Is there someone in here?" It was the Longbottom boy. Without thinking, the man transformed back into his rat form. He could faintly hear the boy casting the unlocking spell, but was blown slightly as the door was pushed opened.

Neville walked in, looking around for the last user of the bathroom. He frowned once he noticed that no one was in there, only Scabbers. He picked up the small rat, whose heart was pounding rapidly.

"It's alright Scabbers." Said Neville gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. Hey, Ron! I found Scabbers!"

 _I'm not here to hurt you._ The boy said—and Peter felt the dread rushing over him. The promise of keeping him safe would not sit well with him—because they were no longer safe with him.

* * *

"Professor R.J. Lupin." Theodore read the trunk of the unknown wizard. The six had walked into their usual compartment—finding a sandy-haired man sleeping inside. The third- years had no choice but to sit inside, seeing as all the other compartments were full.

"He must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." Said Hermione. "Seeing as that's the only teaching position opened."

Neville frowned at the man's appearance. "He looks sick."

"I would be sick too if I was appointed to be the next Dark Arts professor." Snorted Draco. "Remember what happened to the last two?"

Tobias sighed. "I try to forget about this first one."

"Well, I hope this one's up for the job." Ron said doubtfully. "Though he looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he?"

Tobias couldn't see the man clearly, but it was something about his hair that sparked a memory in his mind. It was the same feeling he had when he was attacked by the black dog. He felt like he knew this man from somewhere—but he didn't know where.

Theodore plopped down on the seat next to the wizard. "So, what did you have to tell us?"

"Huh?" Tobias blinked.

"You said you had to tell us something," said Draco. "Said you would tell us on the train."

"Oh, right." Said Tobias. He slowly closed the compartment door, casting a silencing charm to make sure no one could hear them. He turned back around, facing his five friends and the sleeping wizard. A queasy feeling rose in his stomach—he was afraid he would vomit before he got his words out.

"I know for a fact that Sirius Black is after me."

Draco frowned. "How are you sure?"

"Mr. Weasley told me that the night Black escaped, the guards told Fudge that he had been talking in his sleep. Saying the same thing over and over again—'He's at Hogwarts…He's at Hogwarts.'"

"That could be anybody, Tobias." Hermione said, but Tobias knew she didn't even believe her own words.

"You said it yourself, Hermione. Black wants revenge against my grandfather and what better way to get revenge than come after me? My grandfather isn't even allowed to step inside the castle—so who else could Black be referring to?"

Theodore scoffed. "Black would be a bloody idiot if he tries to come after Tobias now. We're on our way to Hogwarts—Dumbledore is at Hogwarts. The freaking dementors are there. Black won't even be able to spit on grounds, yet step foot on it. Unless…you want him to find you."

Ron shook his head. "That's ridiculous. How thick would Tobias have to be to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him? Heir of the Dark Lord or not, it's absolutely barmy."

Draco tried not to make eye contact with Hermione at that statement, but he knew what she was thinking.

"Tobias.." She said, her tone cryptic. "you'll have to be really, really careful this term. Don't go looking for trouble—"

"I don't go _looking_ for trouble." Said Tobias.

Theodore nodded. "Trouble usually comes looking for us."

"What if Black does break into Hogwarts?" Neville asked, his voice uneasy. "No one knows how he got out of Azkaban. My gran says no one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too."

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. "But they'll catch him, won't they? I mean they've got all the muggles looking-"

She was interrupted as Draco raised a hand to her mouth. "Did you all hear that?"

The compartment went silent, and then they heard it. A faint whistling sound coming from the top of the compartments, where everyone's trunks sat.

"It's coming from your trunk, Longbottom." Theo said, standing up on the seat to reach into the luggage rack. A moment later Theo plopped back down with a spinning glass top. It was spinning rapidly and glowing brightly in Theo's palm.

Hermione dropped her arms. "Is that a Sneakoscope?"

"A very cheap one too." Ron frowned. "I gave it to Neville for his birthday. The bloody thing went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg."

"Well, were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione asked promptly, crossing her legs. Tobias had to repress his smirk—that was Pansy's move.

"No!" Ron said suddenly, but the reddening of his ears told otherwise. "Well…I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys…but how else was I supposed to get Neville's present to him?"

Draco laughed. "Why'd you even get Longbottom that thing anyway? He's about as clean as a baby's ass."

"Language, Mister Malfoy." Theodore teased.

"My gran suggested it." Neville said, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "Figured it would keep us out of trouble if we knew where the actual trouble was."

"Now where's the fun in that?"

Tobias chuckled. "Put it back in the trunk, Theo. We might wake him."

They all looked towards Professor Lupin, but he was still asleep. Tobias didn't know if he had heard their conversation about Sirius Black. Maybe if he did he would've woken up and said something. Tobias was hoping that he would—it would solve the mystery of where he knew the wizard from.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff."

"Do you all know much about Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked, uncrossing her leg and returning to her know-it-all manner. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain."

"It is." Draco nodded. "But really, Granger, you're going to spoil all the fun reading about it. Just wait until you get there."

Theodore smiled. "Just wait until you see Honeydukes."

"Oh yeah." Ron agreed, rubbing his hands together.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's this sweet shop." Neville explained. "They've got everything…Pepper Imps—"

"They make you smoke at the mouth." Theodore explained, opening his mouth.

"-and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next."

Ron smiled dreamily. "The greatest place on Earth."

"But," Hermione frowned, becoming uninterested in Neville's candy talk. "Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it? In Sites of Historical Sorcery, it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be—"

Draco covered her mouth with his hand once more, but that didn't stop Hermione from continuing her speech about the history of Hogsmeade. "How is it possible that she just made me hate Hogsmeade?"

"Hate Hogsmeade?" Ron laughed. "I've been waiting for this since we first got to Hogwarts. Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

Tobias frowned, now remembering that he wasn't allowed to go to Hogsmeade. His grandfather never signed his permission slip. It was sitting unsigned in his trunk. "I expect it will." He said tightly. "You all will have to let me know when you find out."

"What d'you mean?"

Everyone looked at Tobias, confused at his words. Tobias sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't go to Hogsmeade. My grandfather didn't sign my permission slip."

Theodore and Ron looked horrified.

"You're not allowed to come?" Ron asked, still in shock. "But why?"

Tobias closed his eyes, becoming frustrated all over again. "He knows Black is after me too."

"I figure if he wasn't as sick as he was," said Draco. "He would be trying to end Black himself."

"Your grandfather's sick again?" Hermione asked.

The Slytherin nodded. "This time worse than before."

"Well, now you _have_ to go to Hogsmeade!" Ron exclaimed. "It'll take your mind off your grandfather. I'm sure we can get Snape to sign it—"

Neville laughed. "Like that'll happen."

"—or we can ask Fred and George, they know a secret passage out of the castle."

"There are secret passages out of the castle?" Theodore asked intriguingly.

"No!" Hermione said tightly, her lips pursed at the both of them. "Tobias shouldn't be sneaking out of the castle when we know for a _fact_ Black is after him."

Theodore shook his head. "But if _we're_ with him—"

"Black wouldn't dare—" Ron continued.

"Oh, Ron, don't talk that rubbish." The witch snapped. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Tobias just because _we're_ there?"

Theodore and Ron looked at each other, then back at Hermione. "Yes."

"Ugh," She groaned, turning towards the blonde Slytherin. "Draco, tell them I'm right."

"Yes, Draco," said a voice, a very prompt and snobbish voice. "Tell your little pet how right she is."

The group turned, their expression immediately turning sour as they saw who was standing at the door of their compartment. Their greatest enemy—Blaise Zabini. He had also grown taller, but he was still the same ole Zabini—just with a few new tricks Tobias supposed. He looked like the model prep school boy—his clothes free of wrinkles and folds. He was like a demon dressed in angels clothing. Behind him stood his nitwit cronies—Crabbe and Goyle. They both had grown larger—Tobias wondered how they even got on the train.

"Didn't we get rid of you last year?" growled Draco, standing up to face Zabini.

Blaise smiled. "Oh, you could never get rid of me, Malfoy. Push me a step back yes—but I always come back."

Ron stood up this time, cracking his knuckles. "Then I guess we have to push you back a bit farther, don't you think?"

"As lovely as that sounds, I actually came to see you, Ronald."

"See me for what?"

Blaise smirked. "Well, I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer. I was sending my condolences."

Tobias shook his head. "Ron, don't. Zabini you need to leave now."

"Condolences for what?!" Ron asked, ignoring Tobias's warning.

The tan Slytherin smirked dropped. "For your mother of course."

The Gryffindor seemed confused. "My mother? My mother's not dead!"

"Oh dear me," Blaise chuckled. "This is embarrassing. I just assumed someone had to die for you all to inherit all that gold—and seeing as you and your degenerate siblings aren't worth the ground you walk on, I assumed it was your mother."

At those words, Ron lunged at Zabini, but was stopped by Neville and Theodore who held him back.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried. "You're going to wake him up!"

Blaise frowned, staring at the other guest inside the compartment. "Who is that?"

"The new teacher." Tobias said, standing up to make sure Ron, or Theodore, didn't lose their heads. "Any more questions, Zabini?"

"Ah, well let's hope he's up for the job." He smirked at Tobias. "Or he doesn't get killed."

"You need to leave." Tobias gritted his teeth.

"Better watch your back, LeStrange. Heard Black's looking for you." Zabini smiled again, and Tobias watched to punch him in the throat right then and there. "Better yet, all of you should watch your backs. Times are changing."

And with that he walked off, leaving the six angry and confused.

* * *

Ginny sat in the farthest compartment away from her brothers. If they knew who she was meeting with, they would have a heart attack. It would be worse than when they all find out she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. To be honest, she was nervous—she didn't know why but she was. The person she was meeting wasn't like the rest of her friends. He was exactly the opposite—he was their enemy.

"I just had a run in with your lovely brother." Zabini said, stepping into the compartment. "It's like his face gets redder and redder every year."

Ginny chuckled. "You should stop picking on him."

"Don't tell me you hate it. " The boy smirked, plopping down on the seat.

"I don't necessarily _hate_ it. But you know how he is…"

Zabini nodded. "A bomb waiting to explode. No worries, however, I only sparked the fuse. He should be fine."

"How was your summer?" Asked Ginny, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears.

"Same as LeStrange's." Blaise said, and Ginny could hear the hint of jealousy in his voice. She smirked at his tone. "Surely you know all about that."

The Gryffindor laughed. "Is Blaise Zabini _jealous_?"

"Of course not. I—"

But Blaise didn't get to finish his sentence. There was a loud thunderclap, and the rain outside seemed to fall harder than before. The windows fogged and the lights flickered a bit. A moment later and the window went completely black—the two couldn't see anything.

"We must be approaching Hogwarts." Said Zabini. "It looks like it's nearly nightfall."

Ginny checked her watched. 3:30.

"Blaise, I don't think…"

She couldn't finish as the train began to slow down and as it did the rain fell harder and the wind howled. Another thunderclap and the lights flicked again. The Slytherin stood up, slowly pulling out his wand, gesturing for Ginny to stay where she was. Looking outside the compartment door, he realized he was one of the few who decided to do the same.

"What the bloody hell?" The boy whispered, not understanding what was going on. Another moment and the train stopped, jerking the boy backwards. The sounds of luggage falling and children screaming filled the train. The lights then cut off, leaving them all in darkness. Total darkness.

"Blaise?" Ginny said. "Blaise are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He grunted. "I think the train broke down."

"I think…I think someone's coming aboard."

Zabini guided his way towards the window, peering out to see who Ginny was referring to. He couldn't see them, but there was definitely something moving out there. He turned back around, noticing that everyone had become silent. He also noticed that it had gotten colder—the frost leaving as he breathed. Lifting his wand he cast a small lighting charm. He walked towards the compartment door once more but stopped as he noticed a hand print on the glass. He held his breath, it wasn't a regular hand—it looked skeletal.

"Ginny." Blaise whispered. "Do you see that?"

"What is it?"

Her question wasn't answered. They both grew silent as the door slid opened, revealing a cloaked figure. The Slytherin took a step back, hoping he was near Ginny. The figure's face was completely hidden, the only thing they could see were it hands—its glistening, grayish, bony hands. They were rotten—as if the figure had been dead for years. Blaise's stomach contracted as he realized what the creature was.

"Oh no."

"Blaise?" said the girl, her voice shaking. "What is that?"

"It's a—"

His breath caught—the cold strangled him. He could feel it seeping into his skin…into his chest…into his heart. Everything went black—he couldn't see, he felt like he was drowning. The cold struck him like needles. He could barely hear anything—only the roaring in his ears. It grew louder and louder.

" _Do it! DO IT! KILL ME! JUST KILL ME!"_

He couldn't move. He wanted to help—he knew that voice. He had heard it over and over again. But how did it get in his head? He tried to fight against it—but he couldn't. The darkness was turning whiter—the light becoming brighter and brighter—taking him along for the ride.

* * *

"Tobias! Tobias! Are you alright?"

Tobias woke up. He came in contact with his five friends and Pansy, who were all crowded around him. He noticed the lights on the Hogwarts Express were back on, and that the train was back moving. What had happened? How did he end up on the floor? Who was that screaming?

"He's alright, Hermione." Said Draco, frowning. "Theodore get him up."

Tobias sat up. "No, I'm fine. What—What happened?"

"You passed out." Said an unfamiliar voice. The Slytherin looked up to see the wizard, R.J. Lupin, standing above him.

"H—how?" He shook his head. "Did it have something to do with the screaming?"

Neville seemed confused. "Screaming?"

"No one was screaming, Tobias." Said Pansy. She looked worried, he could tell.

He shook his head again. "No, no…someone was screaming. I heard it. I'm not crazy? Theo…"

"No one screamed." Theodore said, slowly raising his hand. "Scouts honor."

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	43. POA5: The New Teachers

I remember black skies

The lightning all around me

I remembered each flash

As time began to burn

Like a startling sign

That fate had finally found me

And your voice was all I heard

That I get what I deserve

~ New Divide x Linkin Park

Chapter 43: The New Teachers

"Here." The wizard said, a piece of chocolate in his hand. "Eat it. I'll help."

Tobias didn't take the chocolate. His mind was still trying gather what happened. He retraced the events: the train broke down, then the lights went out, then the cold chill, then the…

"That was a dementor wasn't it?" He asked, remembering the grim reaper like creature. "That came into the compartment?"

The sandy- haired wizard nodded. "Yes. Hopefully that was the only one that entered the train." He crumpled up the rest of the chocolate, returning it to his cloak pocket. "If you all would excuse me, I need to speak to the driver…"

Once he left, the silence filled the compartment once more. Tobias could read all of their faces- no doubt they thought he was going mad. But that hadn't been the case when he was hearing the Basilisk last term. Someone was screaming, that he knew for sure. But why didn't anyone else hear it? It wasn't a snake—so why was he the only one?

"Are you sure you're alright, Tobias?" Pansy asked, her voice soft and unguarded. He knew that voice—he knew that face. She had been worried about him all summer, from the training to the news about Sirius Black. Now this. He assumed she was wondering when it would stop.

"I'm fine." Tobias said again, though he felt like someone had just reached in his body and grabbed his soul. "Can—can anyone tell me what happened?"

"Well—that thing—" Theo started, "—the dementor stood there and looked around. I mean, I guess it looked around, we weren't able to see his face—and then you—you know—"

Ron nodded. "We thought you were having a fit or something. You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching—"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"

"It was horrible," said Neville, clutching Trevor as if his life depended on it. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

Draco scoffed. "The cold was nothing. How about the fact that I felt like I'll never be cheerful again…"

"But—none of you—" Tobias said slowly. "—fell out of your seats?"

Theodore shook his head. "Nope. Only you."

The Slytherin didn't understand. Why did the dementor affect him, and him only? There were hundreds of people on the train, yet the dementor came after him.

The compartment door opened, and Professor Lupin stepped back inside. He smiled softly at Tobias. "Are you sure you don't want any chocolate? I haven't poisoned it, you know."

This time Tobias decided to take a piece. As he bit into it, he was surprised by how the warmth instantly returned to his body.

Professor Lupin nodded. "Better?"

"I'm fine." Tobias muttered, becoming irritated once more.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. You all better get your stuff together."

"Professor," Hermione asked. "Was anybody else attacked by a dementor?"

The professor's smile dropped at her question. "There was another student affected, at the back of the train. A boy."

Draco frowned. "Is he alright?"

"Oh yes, he's fine. Someone got to him in time—otherwise…"

"Who was it?" Neville asked. "Who got attacked?"

"I believe his name was Blaise Zabini." Professor Lupin answered, gathering his belongings.

The seven went silent— _Blaise?_

* * *

"How did you do that?" Blaise asked. "How did you stop the dementor?"

"Oh that was easy. I used a Patronus."

Blaise had heard of the spell before. A Patronus. He briefly read about them over the summer, but the Dark Lord didn't feel the need to teach it to the heirs. Guess he wasn't expecting one of his heirs to be attacked by a dementor.

He sat on one side of the compartment, Ginny clutched in his arms. She was a shaking mess when he came to—no doubt the dementor reminded her of Voldemort. She hadn't stopped shaking since—tears running down her cheeks and small sobs leaving her throat. All he could do was hold her—and find out how to never let it happen again.

"What did you say your name was again?" He asked the second year sitting across from him.

"Luna." The girl said airily. "Luna Lovegood."

The Slytherin nodded. "Thank you, Luna. But how did you learn that spell?"

"My father taught it to me," The witch explained. "Ever since Sirius Black escaped, the dementors have been looking everywhere for him. They found me one day in the woods feeding thestrals—if it wasn't for my father, they would've sucked all the life out of me."

 _Sucked all the life…_ That's exactly how the tan Slytherin felt as he laid paralyzed on the floor.

"When you were attacked, did you hear screaming?"

Luna nodded. "Oh yes. It was my mother—she died when I was nine years old."

"How did you hear her?" Ginny said, unwrapping herself out of Blaise's arms. "If she was dead?"

Luna smiled. "It's what dementors go after. They feed off your most dreadful memories—they must have sensed the one about my mother." She then looked at the tan Slytherin, a whimsical smile on her face that reminded him of Dumbledore. "What did they sense in you, Blaise?"

Blaise went rigid. He remembered the screaming—he had heard it all more than once. Why did the dementor tap into _that_ memory? He didn't want to think about it—he wanted to forget it ever happened. His training was complete—why did it still haunt him?

"I don't know." He lied. "I can't remember."

Ginny could tell he was lying. It scared her even worse that something dreadful happened to him that would make him a target for the dementors. "Blaise…"

"So if I learn how to do the Patronus Charm, I can stop the dementors from….affecting me?"

"Yes." Answered Luna.

The Slytherin nodded again, finally coming to a decision. He wasn't sure if he could trust Luna, but it was the only way to keep off the dementors. He turned to look at Ginny—he would do anything for her. His gaze then returned to Luna, who was fumbling with her radish earrings.

"Teach me." He said firmly.

* * *

Dumbledore stood in his office, watching the boats carrying the first years travel across the Black Lake. He didn't like this. A group of first years coming to see their school surrounded by these monsters. These dementors. He was even more furious when he heard they attacked the Hogwarts Express. But the attack also intrigued him—only two students were affected. Tobias LeStrange and Blaise Zabini.

Of course, Tobias would be affected. The dementor must have tapped into his deepest memory. The one memory Voldemort had tried so hard to suppress. The murder of his parents. But Zabini? What was he hiding? What horror had he witnessed? If anything, he had expected Ginny Weasley to be affected by the dementor. But nevertheless…

"He's going to find out." Sneered a voice.

Dumbledore didn't turn around. "Not yet, Severus."

"It won't be long until _someone_ tells him the truth." His colleague stressed. "Lupin was in the compartment with him right when it happened."

"I trust Lupin—he won't tell. He will try to help the boy, I'm sure. But he knows the risks."

Snape's jaw clenched. "Does he?"

"You have doubts, Severus?" The old wizard chuckled.

"Other than the fact that he may have dragged Sirius along with him? He claimed Black left before he woke up—I believe differently. Why else would the dementors attack the train?"

The door opened again and Professor McGonagall stepped inside. "Dumbledore, the students have arrived."

The old wizard turned around, facing his two colleagues. "We shall talk later, Severus. Minerva, I need you to speak to Tobias LeStrange. And send Blaise Zabini to my office."

"Yes sir."

She then left, leaving Snape and Dumbledore in the office once more. After a few moments, Snape turned on his heel, walking out of the office as well. Once Dumbledore was alone, his small smile turned into a deep frown. He sighed, turning his head back to the window, where a dementor was floating passed it.

" _Expecto Patronum._ " He said quickly, watching as a silvery Phoenix zoomed out of his wand, straight towards the dementor. He slipped his wand back into his cloak, striding out of his office. The door closing with a soft _boom._

* * *

The carriage ride to Hogwarts was silent. Nobody spoke—only observing took place. The first change everyone noticed was the dementors guarding the school. They were everywhere, and Tobias could feel the cold feeling rushing over him once more. He still felt weak, but better than he had on the train. He sat back against the seat, closing his eyes—waiting for the carriage ride to stop. Draco had his arm around Hermione, who still looked a little uneasy from the attack—but Tobias wasn't sure that was the reason. She wasn't affected, so why did she look so upset? Theodore and Ron resulted in a silent game of wizard's chess. Neville sat silently, looking out the window. Every now and then he would pass a glance at Tobias, making sure the boy wasn't about to pass out again.

When the ride was over, Tobias shuffled out first—eager to get to the great hall to bury his worries in endless plates of food. But as he stepped out, he realized that feast wouldn't come quick enough.

"You _fainted_ , LeStrange?" Crabbe teased. "Is that new professor telling the truth? You actually _fainted_?

Golye was behind him, pushing through other third years so the three could be face to face. Tobias was surprised to see that Blaise wasn't with them. Actually, he hadn't seen Blaise since he stepped on the train.

"Shove off, idiots." Growled Ron, stepping beside Tobias.

"Crabbe! Goyle!" They heard a voice shout.

Blaise came pushing through the crowd. He looked the same as Tobias—as if his soul had been tainted. So it was true, Tobias thought—Blaise was attacked by the dementors. But why?

"It's alright, boss." Goyle laughed. "We've handled them for you. What's wrong, Weasley? Did you faint as well? Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Can you two _shut up_?!" hissed Blaise.

"Is there a problem?" said a firm voice. Everyone turned to see Professor Lupin standing next to his carriage. Crabbe and Goyle frowned at the patches on his robes and his broken down suitcase.

"No, Professor, there isn't." Blaise growled, casting a murderous look at Crabbe and Goyle. "See you inside, LeStrange."

The three then walked off, leaving Tobias and the rest in the crowd of arriving students.

"Well he looks off his rocker." Theo said. "The dementors must've gotten him good."

"Wonder what he saw." Said Draco, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

Tobias watched the three as they walked towards the castle. "Or heard."

They made their way into the crowd, and in moments they were once again inside Hogwarts—standing inside the huge entrance hall. The torches were lit as usual and the marble staircase shined, too. They could hear the chatter and excitement coming from the Great Hall. Tobias could almost see the enchanted ceiling when a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"LeStrange! Nott! Granger!"

Theodore sighed. "We literally just got here. What could we have done?"

They turned around, watching as Professor McGonagall called them from over the heads of the crowd of students. The three made their way towards her—no one in a rush to see what McGonagall needed them for. Draco, Neville, and Ron stayed a few paces behind them, but after a stern look from McGonagall, the boys turned around, following everyone else into the great hall.

"Mister Nott," the professor said promptly. "Professor Flitwick wants to meet with you in his classroom before the feast starts."

Theodore didn't say anything, only nodding and heading down the corridor, away from the other two. Tobias slightly frowned as he watched the Slytherin—what did Professor Flitwick want with Theo?

"Granger and LeStrange. My office. Now."

All thoughts of Theo went away as Tobias followed the professor to her office. It was a silent walk—Hermione didn't say anything either. What did McGonagall need her for? For a moment, Tobias believed the professor wanted to talk to him about the train incident—but that couldn't be the case. Hermione wasn't affected by the Dementors.

Once entering her office, the Professor motioned for the two to have a seat. Her office was smaller than Dumbledore's, but felt just as safe. There was a welcoming fire in the corner of the room. They watched as McGonagall settled herself behind her desk, and before they could say anything, the professor said abruptly,

"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, LeStrange."

Tobias went rigid.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said another voice. Madam Pomfrey stepped inside, her medical bag in her hand. "I suppose you all have been doing something dangerous again?"

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey." Said Tobias, becoming annoyed. "I don't need anything."

"It was a dementor, Poppy." McGonagall said firmly.

Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. "I knew it. Setting dementors around a school." She touched Tobias's forehead. "He won't be the last one who collapses. I've heard about the Zabini boy, too. Yes. He's all clammy in Dumbledore's office. Terrible things they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate—"

"Delicate?" Tobias jerked his head up. "I'm not delicate!"

The witch ignored him, checking his pulse. "Of course you're not."

"What does he need?" said Professor McGonagall. "Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

Tobias jumped up, losing his temper. "I said I'm _fine!_ "

"Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least." Said Madam Pomfrey, once again ignoring him.

"He's already had some." Said Hermione. "Professor Lupin gave him some. He gave all of us some."

"Did he now? So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

Professor McGonagall looked back at Tobias. "Are you sure you're alright, LeStrange?"

"Yes, professor." Tobias sighed impatiently.

"Very well. You can wait outside. I need to have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can all go down to the feast together."

Tobias nodded, walking out of the office. He waited in the corridor, watching as Madam Pomfrey walked back to the hospital wing, muttering under her breath about the dementors. A few minutes later, Hermione exited the office—looking happier than she was a few moments before. Tobias cocked his head at her sudden change in expression.

"You seem happier." He whispered as they followed the professor to the Great Hall.

"Oh," The witch said, her face turning red. "McGonagall just wanted to wish me luck with all my classes."

Tobias didn't say anything else, but he knew she was lying. But what about? Studying her appearance as she walked, the only knew thing he noticed was a golden chain glistening through the strands of her hair. Had that always been there?

* * *

Blaise sat in Dumbledore's office. He assumed word had gotten to the headmaster about his little "episode" on the train. Another thing intrigued him about the dementor attack—LeStrange was attacked as well. Why? LeStrange hadn't been through what Blaise had over the summer—his training was nowhere near what Blaise was doing. But he was affected by the dementors—what was LeStrange hiding?

"Mister Zabini," the headmaster said. "How was your summer?"

"Busy." The boy said quickly. The quicker this conversation ended, the quicker he could leave and figure out what was actually going on with him.

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course. Nothing special happened, I assume?"

"Correct."

The old wizard sat down in his office chair, and Blaise knew what was to come next. He didn't believe him of course, but what was Blaise supposed to say? He didn't even understand what was going on—how could he explain it? All he remembered was everything going black, his body suddenly feeling like ice, and the screaming.

He watched as Dumbledore dug in his desk for something. Blaise heard the clattering of jewelry and then saw the end of a gold chain. His breath caught as he recognized it—a time turner. But how? How did Dumbledore know?

"Do you know what this is, Mister Zabini?"

"No sir." He lied again.

"Ah, I see," The headmaster said, examining the device. "Well, this is called a Time Turner. Depending on the make, they can take you to any point of time—one minute backward, one day, one month, one year….one century. This one, however, is a rare breed—time masters they are called."

Blaise swallowed. He tried to act calm, but he couldn't. He knew everything the headmaster was saying. He knew about the time turners—the time masters. He had used one over the summer.

"There are only two time masters in the world. This one as you can see, is with me."

"Where is the other one?" Blaise said slowly, trying to convince the headmaster the opposite of his summer activities.

Dumbledore shrugged. "Nobody knows. But whoever has it, I hope they understand the laws of time travel. A tricky thing time traveling can be. Many side effects."

"Like?"

"Oh, the list is endless. Depending on the time and place you returned to, it can have positive and negative effects. The worst…becoming vulnerable to a Dementor attack."

Blaise froze.

"Yes, Mister Zabini," Dumbledore said calmly, not a hint of anger in his eyes. "I know that you have been going back in time, changing things."

"Professor—" The boy tried to say, but the headmaster stopped him.

"I won't ask you what you've done, Blaise. But I will only warn, you need to keep away from the Dementors this year. They sense the pain of what you've witnessed—it will only get worse from here."

"What's happening to me?"

"You're keeping something inside of you, Mister Zabini. And the dementors can feel that, they feed off your dreadful memories. You need to make peace."

The boy swallowed, the memories unconsciously running back to his head. "And what if I can't?"

Dumbledore latched his hands together. "I have faith in you. Only in darkness, Mister Zabini, can we see the light."

* * *

Tobias and Hermione walked inside the Great Hall. They walked in during the sorting, a small black haired girl had just been sorted into Ravenclaw. They watched as Professor McGonagall walked to her empty seat at the staff table, sitting next to Dumbledore. Looking over to the Slytherin table, Tobias noticed that Blaise had just returned to his seat. He looked troubled. It was still a mystery what happened to him on the train—what he heard.

"Where's Theo?" He heard Hermione whisper.

The Slytherin looked towards their usual seats at the end of the Gryffindor table, and in fact, Theodore was not there. The thoughts of Theo faded away again as Tobias walked to his seat. He could feel the eyes of all the other students on him, the faint whispers about what happened earlier. It was no shock that the news of Tobias LeStrange, top of the Slytherin heirs, passed out on the train.

Hermione took her spot beside Draco and Tobias sat on the other side of him. Ron and Neville sat on the other side, Neville saving the spot that should be Theo's.

"What was all that about?" Ron whispered. "And where's Theo?"

Tobias shrugged. "Dunno. But—"

Before he could finish, there was the tapping of a glass and everyone's attention was diverted to the front of the Great Hall. There stood Professor Dumbledore. Though he was very old, he always seemed so full of energy. It amazed Tobias how optimistic Dumbledore could be, even in the worst of situations. It was one of the many reasons the Slytherin respected him, despite his grandfather's beliefs. There was something about the wizard—that made you believe in him. That made you trust him.

"Welcome!" He said, his smile bright and full. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it is best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

The room stayed silent. Everyone knew what Dumbledore was about to say.

"As you will all be aware after their search on the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

"Of course they are." Draco sneered.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds. And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks."

The five looked at each other as the headmaster said this.

"It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

Blaise shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He watched as LeStrange did the same. How could it be? That he and his sworn enemy were affected by the same monster. That they finally had something else in common except for the fact that they were heirs?

"But on a happier note," Dumbledore said, now smiling once more. "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was applause, but not much of it. At this moment, Tobias took the time to examine Professor Lupin fully. He felt that feeling again—like he knew this man. It was the same feeling as on the night of his birthday. But he couldn't remember where. It then hit him—but no….it couldn't be. Could it?

"Look at Snape!" Ron laughed, pointing to the staff table.

The other four looked at Professor Snape, who was glaring at Lupin. Everyone knew the DADA teaching spot was his desire ever since he stepped foot in Hogwarts, but not ever had he looked this angry about it. He looked livid—like he loathed Lupin for getting the spot. Tobias knew it too. It was the same loathe he saw every time Zabini looked at him. It made him believe that Lupin and Snape knew each other.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

As Hagrid stood, the Great Hall erupted in a band of applause. Tobias and the rest were the loudest of them all, extremely stunned and excited that Hagrid had gotten him a teaching position at Hogwarts. No wonder he kept urging them to get those books. Tobias smiled as Hagrid waved from the staff table. He was red in the face and couldn't stop smiling—his big white smile longer than his bushy beard.

Draco laughed heartily. "No wonder he wanted us to get that bloody book. I honestly thought it was a joke."

Dumbledore clinked his glass again and the Great Hall went silence once more.

"And to welcome our new teachers, I have organized a musical performance. From our one and only, Hogwarts stage choir."

Everyone clapped as the Great Hall doors opened once more. A line of students of all houses walked in, being led by Professor Flitwick. Tobias narrowed his eyes as he recognized a familiar Slytherin.

"Is that Daphne?" He said shockingly as the girl walked passed.

Ron snorted. "Nevermind her. Is that Theo?"

Leading the line of boys was Theodore Nott. He walked passed his friends, his head held high and a smirk on his face. He knew he had just successfully surprised his friends. No one knew he could sing.

The choir lined up in front of the podium. The tenors and basses in the middle, the sopranos on the right of them, and the altos on the left. In front stood Professor Flitwick, who pulled out his wand—preparing to announce the first song.

"Theodore can sing?" Hermione asked, looking to Draco and Tobias.

"I'm just as surprised as you are, Granger." Draco replied.

The music began and choir started to sing. They would hear Theodore clearly through the crowd, and Daphne as well, seeing that Professor Flitwick had them in the front. The five were surprised to see that their friend could sing really well and wondered why Theodore hadn't mentioned this talent before. Tobias could hear Neville and Ron humming the tune of the song.

" _Double, double, toil and trouble. Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. Double, double, toil and trouble. Something wicked this way comes!"_

Everyone listened diligently to the song, especially when Daphne and Theodore's solo came. Daphne had a beautiful soprano voice and Theodore's range was excellent. It was better than anything Tobias had ever heard.

The song ended and the students returned to their respected house tables. They watched as Daphne returned to the Slytherin table, sitting next to Pansy and Tracey. Tobias made eye contact with his betrothed, catching her words as she mouthed "Are you okay?" He nodded with a small smile, turning back around to face his friends.

As Theo sat down, the tables suddenly were filled with golden goblets and golden plates. Another second and mountains of food and drinks appeared on the tables as well. They six began helping themselves to any and everything they could reach. Once they piled their plates, it wasn't long before the group reached the subject of Theodore's new talent.

"Why didn't you tell us you could sing?" Neville asked.

Theodore shrugged. "Didn't seem that important."

"If it wasn't that important," said Draco, "How come you're up and singing with the choir?"

Hermione smiled. "Especially with Daphne."

"Oh that's simple," Theodore said as he put a piece of chicken in his mouth "She's blackmailing me."

Tobias frowned. "Blackmailing you? With what?"

The boy sighed. "She heard me singing in the shower one night. When I stepped out, she was sitting on my bed claiming that if I didn't join the choir, she was going to tell my mother about her 'treatment'", he rolled his eyes at this. "at my manor this summer."

The blonde Slytherin snorted. "Treatment?"

"Yeah," Theodore said. "I may or may not have done some things to her that I shouldn't have."

"Like?" Ron asked.

"Like setting her hair on fire—on _accident._ And replacing her water with lake water—not an accident."

" _Theodore!"_ Hermione gasped. "Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Draco said, receiving a strike from Hermione. " _Ouch!_ I'm just saying, Daphne's bloody annoying. I should know, I'm betrothed to her bloody sister."

"Don't remind me." Hermione said under her breath.

"But what Daphne doesn't know is," The brown- haired Slytherin smirked. "Is that I actually like singing with the choir. So it's a win- win."

They laughed and joked all through the feast. Tobias had forgotten about Sirius Black, the dementors, and Zabini—all he wanted to do was enjoy his friends.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed when Hagrid approached their table.

"All down ter you six," the game keeper said, wiping his face on his napkin. "Can' believe it…great man, Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough…It's what I always wanted."

Overcome with emotion, Hagrid walked away—just in time, too, as the students were dismissed to go to their common rooms and off to bed.

Tobias and Theodore walked towards the Slytherin dungeons as Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Draco walked towards Gryffindor Tower. The two Slytherins made kissy faces as their blonde friend escorted Hermione down the corridor. Draco narrowed his eyes at the two but nevertheless continued his journey. As Tobias and Theodore continued towards the Slytherin common room, something crossed Tobias's mind.

"Theodore." He said. "Does Professor Lupin look familiar to you?"

The other boy was silent for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell. Why?"

"I don't know. But I got that same feeling I did when I encountered that black dog on my birthday . Like I knew him. Strange, right?"

"Definitely." Said the other boy. "But you've been thinking too hard about this Sirius Black thing, Tobias. It's making you loony in the head. We're at Hogwarts now—we're perfectly safe."

Tobias nodded, his mind barely believing Theodore's words. "Yeah, perfectly safe."

* * *

Voldemort stood in his study, something he rarely ever did. But it was something about his depleting health that made him want to do things he's never done. He stood with his cane gripped in his hand, watching the clouds pass over the sky. It was still raining, but it was something about the rain that gave him peace. The peace before the storm. Everything was slowly falling into place. He had waited many years for this… and now it was coming.

His gazing ended as there was a knock on the door.

"Come in." He said.

The door opened and he could see the reflection of Lucius Malfoy stepping inside of this study. From his facial expression, Voldemort could tell something had happened. He didn't turn around but waited until Lucius told him what he came here for.

"The Hogwarts Express was attacked by dementors. Tobias and Blaise were affected."

The Dark Lord frowned, gripping his cane tighter. "Was anyone else affected?"

"No, my Lord. Just those two."

The Dark Lord nodded, turning to face the blonde- haired man. He walked forward, trying to think of his next play. The dementors had to be channeling Tobias's darkest memory—the murder of his actual parents. It was another problem to add to the list of things that could go wrong thus year. First Black, then Lupin takes the job at Hogwarts, and now this.

"Did the children make it to the school, safely?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes. They arrived a few hours ago."

The Dark Lord nodded again, understanding the bigger picture of what that meant. What could be seen as a setback, opened up the doors to a bigger opportunity—and Lord Voldemort was about to take it. He sat down at his desk, pulling out an envelope from his drawer.

"Do you know what this means, Lucius?" He asked his servant.

"It means that we could possibly lose two of our heirs, my Lord." Malfoy said promptly. "The dementors are unpredictable."

"The boys are the least of my worries. Dumbledore will take care of them—but I meant, do you know what this means for _us_? For our plans?"

By the growing frown on Lucius's face, the man didn't realize what this meant—and the Dark Lord expected no less from him. His followers never looked at the bigger picture—they always looked at the pieces. When once piece didn't fit any longer, the world went to chaos in their eyes. But they never stopped to look back at the grand scheme of things—where they would figure out you didn't need to change the picture, but just a piece of it.

"If the children made it there safely, then the Weasley boy made it—and if the Weasley boy made it—"

"Wormtail is at Hogwarts." Said Lucius, nodding. "Meaning that Black will be there as well. But that doesn't give us much time, my Lord, Dumbledore has the dementors—"

"Looking for him. Yes, I know. But fortunately, we have something to slow them down." He held up a finger. "Instead of one target, the dementors now have three." He raised two more fingers, and Lucius could tell where his master was heading.

"You believe that this will slow the dementors down?"

Voldemort smiled, his small, spiky teeth glistening. "Precisely. Giving us more time to find Wormtail and more leverage on Black. No doubt he will stay at Hogwarts despite the dementors, once he finds out his godson is being greatly affected by them."

The blonde haired man nodded. "And what about the boys?"

"They won't be an issue. Dumbledore won't let the dementors severely harm the students. He detests the very idea of them being there."

Again, Lucius nodded. He began to eye the envelope on the table labeled _Atlas Riddle_. Lucius recognized that name—well the surname. It was the same as his master's. Tom Riddle.

"There is another matter I need you to attend to, Lucius." The Dark Lord said slowly. "My son, Atlas, I need you to teach him."

"Teach him what?" The man said slowly, trying to process all the new information.

Voldemort slid the envelope across the desk. "Everything. He is crucial to our plan. I need him ready—he already has the mark. I am right to assume you know what that means, Lucius?"

Malfoy took the envelope, opening it to see what was inside. There was a letter, along with an address written on the fold.

"Everything you need to find him is inside. I will contact him to know you are coming."

The man nodded, tucking the envelope inside his robes. He watched as Voldemort rose out of his desk, returning to his post at the window. Realizing that this was his cue to leave, Lucius rose slowly from his seat, walking back towards the door.

"I expect nothing but the best from you, Lucius." Voldemort said suddenly. "Do not fail me again."

Voldemort watched as Malfoy nodded and then exited the study. The rain had stopped and all he could see were the silhouettes of trees. He could literally feel the silence. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, imagining the world filled with chaos and madness once more. He could smell the fire burning. He could feel the times changing.

Opening his eyes, he smirked at his reflection. His facial appearance was no different, only his eyes. His pupils had gone a blood red color. But they did not burn, they did not sting. They felt as calm as the world outside—but through them, he could see the war rising once more. He could feel the reign of Lord Voldemort rising again.

" _Hail Voldemort._ " He hissed.

 **Author's Note: Sorry about the late update! Hope you all enjoy. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	44. POA6: Omens

It's a dark philosophy

And it haunts her constantly

It's a false alarm to me

She's a false alarm

False Alarm x The Weeknd

Chapter 44: Omens

 _"Padfoot quick fidgeting!" James growled. "You're going to make me mess up!"_

 _They all sat shirtless on the carpet. Voldemort was rising and they had to take the proper precautions. They knew this wouldn't be like school anymore, they couldn't follow each other around anymore. They couldn't go where the other went—do what the other did. It was time to find out who they really were—it was time to become what fate wanted them to be. But they knew they would always be brothers. They knew that no matter what—they would always be there for each other._

 _And to keep that promise, they made the bond._

 _Sirius laughed. "You're going to mess up regardless, Prongs. When was the last time you drew something?"_

 _"We should hurry, you guys." Peter squeaked. "It won't be long until Snape finds out where we are and what we're doing."_

 _James snorted. "And if he did find out, what could poor Snivellus possibly do to us, Wormtail?"_

 _"He is a prefect." Remus pointed out. "There are a few things he could do."_

 _"Always the downer aren't we, Moony?" Sirius teased. "Come on, Prongs, let's get this over with."_

 _James carefully drew the stag on Sirius's side stomach. Sirius flinched as the tip of the cold needle touched his skin—he bit his lip as his bestfriend drew a bit of blood, tracing over the ink which disappeared after each stroke. It left the stag tattoo—it didn't burn or sting, but Sirius could feel the bond working. He could feel their connection growing deeper—he could literally feel him._

 _"Did it work?" James asked curiously._

 _Remus smirked lightly. "Only one way to find out." There was a loud smack and James laid face down on the carpet. The other wizard laughed as he blew his knuckles. "Did you feel that Padfoot?"_

 _"Just a little." Sirius teased. "Just one more hit, Moony. Just to be sure."_

 _"Do it and you're dead." Said James, his voice muffled from the carpet. The room filled with laughter. Instead of growing louder it seemed to fade away. And so did the color from the room—the lights went dim. The room grew colder—and each boy disappeared one by one. Leaving Sirius alone._

He opened his eyes, not even noticing the tears that were falling down his face. It was just as he remembered it, but emptier. He was always the last one to arrive because he knew the others would be waiting for him. Peter laid out on the old rug, James slouched on the couch, and dear old Remus, splattered on the bed—the most excited of the group. But now nothing—just him.

Sirius transformed, taking in the smell of his old hideout. Disappointment filled his heart—he knew he couldn't stay here. It wouldn't be long until somebody knew that Sirius Black, notorious murderer, was hiding on Hogwarts grounds. This would be the first place to look. The Shrieking Shack. The place where the marauders used to run off to during Remus's "transformations." Now who would hide out with him? Keep him company when he was now an outsider to the world? He sighed, settling himself on the old couch.

He didn't even bother to frown as the dust rose violently from the cushions. He didn't bother to straighten up or even attempt to make himself "at home." He was too tired—why fix what was already broken? This place wasn't the same. Not without James or Remus—hell not without Peter either. He trailed off into his thoughts, watching as the room transformed into what it used to be. When times were simpler.

He could feel his fingers unconsciously running down his tattoo. The memories of the bond swimming through his head. He starred at the rug in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes, visualizing the four of them kneeled around it once more. The day when they became more than brothers. The day when everything changed. The day when the simple days ended.

He knew he was doing the right thing—coming for Harry. If he didn't, he would be breaking the very promise he made to James that day. He didn't care what Dumbledore said, what Lupin said, what anyone thought. Harry Potter was his godson—not this Tobias LeStrange character. He was going to get him back—he was going to tell him the truth.

* * *

It was no surprise to the six third- years when they walked into the Great Hall, finding that the great chamber was in its usual first day of school chaos. The first thing they saw, however, was Crabbe and Goyle reenacting Tobias's incident on the Hogwarts Express yesterday. Goyle had his robes over his head, pretending to be a dementor and Crabbe was supposed to be Tobias, falling in the arms of Millicent Bulstrode, who they all assumed was supposed to be Pansy.

"Ignore him," Hermione whispered, and Tobias soon realized he had unconsciously balled his fist at the sight. "Just ignore them, it's not worth it…look, Zabini isn't even entertaining it."

"Why would he?" Ron snorted. "He passed out on the train, too."

"Maybe we should do our own reenactment." Said Theodore.

"No." Hermione said quickly. "Sinking to their level makes us no better than them."

Theodore opened his mouth to retort but they were distracted as Millicent stood on top of her seat, yelling at the top of her lungs.

"Hey, LeStrange!" She laughed heartily. "LeStrange! The dementors are coming, LeStrange! _Woooooooo!"_

Draco narrowed his eyes at the girl. "Surely, we can miss one morality lesson today, Granger."

"She deserves it." Neville said lowly.

"Millicent's an idiot." Hermione said, and they could tell in her voice she was irritated as well, but she was keeping her composure. "And besides, I heard Lavender Brown and Romilda Vane talking about the attack last night—Millicent was going barmy in her compartment. Fainted when the lights went out."

"And they have the nerve to make fun of us?" said Theodore, disgust in his voice. "Pathetic."

Tobias didn't say anything. He knew it was silly, but even a representation of the dementors creeped him out. He could feel that cold feeling rising inside him again. The feeling of his soul leaving his body. It didn't matter that Zabini wasn't encouraging it or that Millicent was scared out of her mind. He was afraid- he was truly afraid.

They found their way to their usual table, where they found George, Fred, and Ginny Weasley waiting for them. Each one had their school schedules in front of them—Ginny was looking over hers thoroughly while it looked as if Fred and George hadn't even bother to glace at theirs.

"New third- year course schedules," George said, passing Theodore his. "What's up with you, LeStrange?"

"Check the Slytherin table." Said Ron, sitting between Fred and Neville.

The three other Weasleys looked over to see Crabbe and Goyle's little show. Crabbe was fainting again while Goyle pulled down his hood, laughing once more.

"Those little bastards," George said calmly. "They weren't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Goyle literally ran into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

Fred smirked, still eyeing Crabbe and Goyle. "Nearly wet himself."

"I wasn't too happy myself. They're horrible things, those dementors…"

The other twin nodded. "Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?"

"But did any of you pass out?" said Tobias, with more venom than he intended. He instantly recognized his tone. "I didn't—"

"Forget it, Tobias," George wave a dismissive hand. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking… They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

Tobias didn't say anything in return. Ginny noticed he looked the same way Blaise did. He was afraid. She knew it because it was the same look she had when she was being possessed by Lord Voldemort last year. Like everywhere you turned, there was something there to remind you of it—the monster.

"Anyway, we'll see how happy those blokes look when we get our prank business up and running." Said Fred. "We've planned something killer, just for the Slytherin house."

"Well except you guys, of course." Added in George.

Tobias nodded, but it didn't distract him from Crabbe and Goyle, whose voices he could still hear in the background, He gripped his fork, trying to focus on his food.

* * *

"Can you two _sit down_?" Blaise hissed at his cronies. He had had enough of their little "play." At first, he had to admit it was funny. Until Tobias's reenactment began to trigger his own memories of the attack. Goyle was nowhere near the height or demeanor of the dementor, but it seemed to do the trick. As he flipped the hood over his face again and again, Blaise was having trouble recognizing the boy—so much trouble that he felt his body grow cold and his breath become shallow. This couldn't be happening.

He looked over at the Gryffindor table, where he made eye contact with Ginny. Immediately he had forgotten that he was freezing or that he was barely breathing.

"Breathe." She mouthed, before turning back around. His eyes then met those of one of the Weasley twins. Blaise closed his eyes, gaining control once more. He was brought back to reality when Crabbe laughed.

"Come on, boss." He said, sitting up from his previous passed out position. "Look at LeStrange squirm."

It was true, LeStrange did seem on edge. It seems his cronies' reenactment was just as nerve-wrecking. He placed an unconscious hand to his chest, lightly gripping the frame of the Time-Master under his oxford. As much as he hated it, Blaise was glad that he wasn't the only one being affected by this. He was also glad that everyone was turning their attention to LeStrange's incident. Nobody knew about Blaise. And he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't need anyone in his way while he tried to fix this.

* * *

"Why is it always him?" Tracey asked as she poured herself some more orange juice. "I mean, not that I'm complaining, but you would think after two years of escaping death everyone would stop targeting him."

Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey sat a few seats down from Blaise and the "Dementor show." Pansy didn't say anything, though she was about five seconds away from turning Crabbe and Goyle into the pigs they really were and turning Millicent into a fur ball. She sighed deeply, seeing that Tracey had a point. Why was it always Tobias?

Daphne crossed her legs. "And you always seem to end up in the mess, Pans. And how does he reward you?" She clucked her tongue. "By choosing _her_."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" replied Pansy.

"She means," Tracey cut in, taking a sip of her juice. "When are you going to stop pouring over Tobias, and finally do something for yourself?"

"He needs help, Tracey, I'm not going to leave him."

"Then don't." said Daphne. "But only because you care for him as a friend, not because you want to be his _girlfriend_. Cause as you can see," She gestured her head towards Ginny and Tobias. Pansy felt her insides clench as she watched the she-weasel rub his back. "That spot has already been taken."

Tracey scoffed. "Is that why you blackmailed Nott into joining the choir?"

"That was different. Theodore isn't aware of his feelings yet. My mother said the more time we spend together, the more he will realize it."

"Or the more he'll hate you." Pansy sneered under her breath.

* * *

Hermione hadn't said a word since she received her schedule. She was too busy studying it, trying to figure out the perfect way to sneak around the boys, especially Draco. She didn't like keeping a secret from them, but apparently she was already keeping one from Tobias so another one couldn't hurt. Could it? She blinked, focusing on her triple classes at nine o' clock.

"Doubles with the Gryffindors again." Theodore said unsurprised. But Hermione barely heard him.

She nearly jumped as Draco spoke. She had forgotten how close they sat together. "Granger, are you sure that schedule is correct?"

"Of course it is," She said quickly, trying to keep her voice peppy—as she usually would be about new classes. "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today."

Ron looked over to see her schedule today. "And it looks like you're starting about six more than us. Look- they've got you down for about ten subjects a day."

"Ten subjects?" Theodore said through a mouth full of toast. "That's like—" He tried to count the hours on his fingers. "—I can't even count how many hours that is."

"Because it's too many," said Draco, who was now eyeing Hermione suspiciously. "There isn't enough time in the day for all those subjects."

Hermione could feel her face turning red, but she shook it out of her, taking a slice of toast. "I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

Tobias took the schedule next. "Really? Because if I'm reading correctly, you have three nine o' clocks. I'm not doubting you, Hermione, but how are you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione laughed. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

Neville scratched his head. "Well, then—"

"Can someone pass me the marmalade?"

"But—" Ron started to speak.

"Oh, Ron, what's is to you, or _any of you_ , if my schedule's a bit full?" The Gryffindor snapped. "I told you. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"If you say so," said Theodore.

The doors to the Great Hall then burst opened and Hagrid walked inside. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat, a swinging polecat over his left shoulder. He walked straight over to where the six friends were sitting, the same huge smile he had on his face the night before.

"All righ'?" He said. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready…Hope it's okay…Me, a teacher…hones'ly…."

Before anyone could respond, Hagrid left, pushing through the chaos to make it to the staff table.

"Wonder what he's been getting ready?" Ron asked, a peak of anxiety in his voice.

"Whatever it is," said Theodore. "I hope it isn't spiders. Anything but spiders."

"I guess we'll have to find out after lunch," said Tobias. "Look it's almost time for class. Divination is at the top of North Tower."

Theodore groaned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "It'll take us forever to get there."

"Then, we'd better hurry." Said Hermione, who was already ready to go.

They left the table, saying quick goodbyes to Fred, George, and Ginny. As they passed the Slytherin table, Crabbe did another reenactment of Tobias falling. He ignored the laughs, his attention being diverted by one thing. Zabini wasn't laughing. Nobody knew about his passing out on the train, so why wasn't he joining in with all the laughter. If anything, he would be the one conducting it.

Tobias's heart dropped a little when he noticed that Zabini was staring at him. The boy said nothing, only smirking widely at the other heir. Tobias then remembered what he said on the train, right before the dementors.

" _Better watch your back, LeStrange….better yet, all of you should watch your backs. Times are changing."_

"See something you like, LeStrange?" Zabini called out, causing the Slytherin table to snicker lowly.

Tobias smirked back. "Are you always this tough, Zabini? Or is it only when the lights are on and its warm inside?"

He watched as Zabini's demeanor suddenly changed. His face didn't turn into a frown, or one of anger, but one of complete fear. Tobias knew he had struck a nerve. He turned around leaving the Great Hall—though he had won this one, he still had questions.

What did Zabini have planned?

"What is LeStrange talking about?" Goyle gruffed.

"Nothing." Blaise said quickly as he watched LeStrange leave. "Crabbe what classes do we have today?"

Crabbe looked at his schedule. "Uhhhh, Divination, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures—"

That class caught Blaise's attention. "Care of Magical Creatures. When?"

"After lunch."

"Perfect."

* * *

Remus sat in the teacher's lounge. He had an hour before his first class, and apparently, so did Snape. He knew that the dark- haired wizard was displeased about Dumbledore's choice, but Remus knew that it was more than just that.

They said nothing to each other. Remus tried to distract himself with the _Daily Prophet,_ but he could literally feel Snape's eyes burning holes through the parchment. Gracefully setting down the paper, Remus decided to address the issue.

"You have an issue with me being here." It wasn't a question.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?"

"Black," The man said, his anger rising. "You brought him here with you."

Remus rolled his eyes. "And why on Earth would I do that?"

"I could name a few reasons. But why else would the dementors stop the train if Black wasn't on board?"

"Does anybody know why the dementors do _anything_?" Lupin retorted. "And if that was the case, why were two students attacked and not Sirius?"

For this question, Snape didn't have an answer. His nostrils were flared and Remus could tell he was still angry. He knew it was boiling in his stomach—the hatred. It was all coming back to him now—the memories from school, the pranks, the jokes, the name- calling. Remus felt sorry for him—all this time, and they still couldn't make amends.

"There are eyes all around the castle, Lupin." Snape said slowly, his mouth curving slowly into a smirk. "It would be best to remember that."

He got up from his seat and left the staff room, leaving Remus alone. Taking a deep breath the professor returned to his copy of the Daily Prophet. He didn't know where Sirius was, but wherever he was hiding, Remus hoped it was far away from here. He felt a pool of doubt swimming in his stomach as he thought about one of the victims from last night's attack—Tobias LeStrange. The Tobias LeStrange, who was really Harry Potter, Sirius's godson. The godson that Sirius hadn't seen in twelve years and was now attending Hogwarts.

"Dammit Sirius." Remus said under his breath.

* * *

Tobias felt like he had just ran a marathon by the time they reached the North Tower. The rest were huffing behind him, Neville wheezing the loudest. The Slytherin closed his eyes in relief when they heard voices—they had made it to the classroom.

"Farewell!" cried the knight, who was now intruding a painting of monks. "Farewell my comrades- in- arms! If ever you need a noble heart of steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Oh, we'll call you alright." Ron grumbled under his breath. "If we ever need someone mental."

Theodore smiled through his fatigue. "He wasn't so bad, I mean, he did get us here."

"Shut up, Theo." Draco muttered.

They climbed the last few steps of the tower, where they reached a tiny landing. It seemed as if they were the last to arrive, seeing as most of the class was already waiting. There wasn't any doors leading to a class room, but Theodore nudged Tobias, pointing towards a circular door on the ceiling.

"Sybill Trelawney, Divination teach," Tobias read the silver plaque that was drilled into the door.

Neville looked too. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

Just as he asked, the circular door opened and a silvery ladder descended from it. Everyone grew quite.

"After you," Theodore bowed to Tobias. Rolling his eyes, the Slytherin climbed up the ladder. What he saw next was the most bizarre classroom he had ever seen.

In all honesty, it didn't even look like a classroom. It looked like someone's attic, or maybe a giant closet. There were small circular tables scattered around the room, reminding him of a small tea shop. Each table had two poofy armchairs, with fabrics of different colors. The room was barely lit, a crimson light flowing into the rooms from the curtains hanging in the windows. It seemed like everything was covered in scarves and ribbons. It was warmer than most classrooms—and Tobias found the source at the mantelpiece, which was filling the air with a stuffy perfume. The book shelves were filled with giant books, feathers of all types, playing cards, crystal balls, and an abundance of teacups.

"Where is she?" Ron whispered.

Theodore crept in next. "Maybe they fired her? Because this place is uber creepy."

"Welcome." Said a voice out of the shadows. It was soft and mysterious, like it wanted you to stay though you knew you shouldn't. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last."

"What the…"

Theodore trailed off as Professor Trelawney stepped out of the shadows. She was a rather thin woman, whose circular glasses were so big, they made her seem like an insect. She was wearing a flowery shawl, several chains and beads hanging around her neck, and her arms were covered in golden bangles and rings.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, waving a graceful hand to the chairs. Everyone quietly found them somewhere to sit. Tobias, Draco, and Hermione sat at one table while Theodore, Ron, and Neville sat at the one next to theirs.

Professor Trelawney then smiled. "Welcome to Divination. My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my inner eye."

Once again, nobody said anything. The professor sat in her winged armchair in front of the fire, eyeing the classroom carefully. Nobody knew what to expect.

"So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…"

Tobias and Draco smirked at Hermione, who was sitting in the middle of them. Her face had gone pale at the news that books wouldn't help her much in this subject.

Theodore rubbed his hands together. "I'm starting to like this class already."

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearing, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future." She looked around the room some more, her eyes stopping at Neville, Ron, and Theodore's table. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy!"

Neville nearly fell out his chair as the professor addressed him.

"Is your grandmother well?" Professor Trelawney asked.

"I, uh, I think so." Neville responded nervously.

The professor clucked her tongue. "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear. This year, we will be covering the basic methods of Divination. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," Her statement now directed at a Gryffindor named Parvati Patil, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati immediately turned towards Ron, who was sitting the closest to her. Theodore and Neville had to hold in their laughter as the girl quickly scooted her chair away from him.

"In the second term, we shall progress to the crystal ball—if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

There was a long pause before she continued. Tobias felt a sick feeling in his mouth.

"I wonder, dear," the professor said to Lavender Brown. "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender did as she was asked, letting out a relieved sigh as she did so. She put the teapot on top of the table in front of Professor Trelawney, who nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading—it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

The Gryffindor girl nearly fell over as her face blanched. She trembled slightly as she returned to her seat, as silent as she was before.

"Now," the professor said. "I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages from five and six of _Unfogging the Future._ I shall move among you, helping and instructing."

Everyone then stood up, heading towards the bookcases to retrieve a teacup. There was a bit of commotion, seeing as Neville broke three of the cups. Once everyone had a cup, they split off into pairs. Draco with Hermione, Ron with Neville, and Tobias with Theodore.

Once Tobias and Theodore had their cups filled, they quickly went back to their table and drunk the tea. Besides the fact that it was scalding, it was rather disgusting as well. But thankfully, it was nowhere near the polyjuice potion they had drank last term.

They swilled the dregs around as instructed and switched cups. Theodore pulled out his book, sliding it to Tobias to read. "Me first. What do you see?"

Tobias frowned. "Other than this soggy brown stuff?"

"Broaden your minds, my dears," Professor Trelawney called out. "and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!"

Tobias rolled up his sleeves. "Alright. You've got this raging fire looking thing…" He looked in Theodore's book trying to figure out what it meant. "That means you 'destroy everything you touch'—ah that's cheery—but then it could also be a house which means 'peace and tranqulity'….so you're going to destroy everything you touch and be peaceful after…"

Tobias looked up and noticed that Theodore's face was in a deep frown.

"Really?" He said. "That's my fortune?"

The other Slytherin shrugged. "I'm just reading what the book said."

" _I'm just reading what the book said_." Theodore mockingly, snatching the book. "Give me that. You need your Inner Eye tested. My turn."

Tobias watched as his bestfriend analyzed his cup, turning it in different directions. After five minutes of checking the cup and the book, Theo finally finished.

"Well?" Tobias asked. "What's my fortune?"

Theodore frowned again, and Tobias though the worst. "Well, that's the thing. I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You've been staring at it for the past five minutes."

"This stuff is confusing." Theodore explained. "If I turn it this way, it looks like a bowler hat, but if I turn it this way it looks like an acorn, and if I turn it this way it looks like some type of animal—like a hippo or a sheep."

The other Slytherin couldn't help the snort of laughter that left his mouth, but instantly regretted it as Professor Trelawney turned towards their table.

"Let me see that, my dear," she said to Theodore, snatching the cup off the table. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch.

Professor Trelawney stared into the cup, turning it at different angles.

"The falcon….my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

"No shit." Draco whispered.

"But everyone knows _that._ " Agreed Hermione, equally whispering. Apparently, they were whispering too loud because the professor turned to stare at them both. Draco went red, but Hermione didn't stand down.

"Well, they do," the witch continued. "Anybody who reads the prophet knows that Sirius Black is after Tobias."

The five boys stared at Hermione with a mixture of amazement and admiration. Never had they heard Hermione talk back to a teacher. The Professor, however, didn't reply but kept analyzing Tobias's cup.

"The club… an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…."

Theodore huffed. "I still think it's a bowler hat."

"The skull…danger in your path, my dear…"

The whole room was silent, nobody said a word as Trelawney continued. They watched as she gave the cup a final turn, where she gasped suddenly, and then screamed, causing the class to jump as she dropped the cup.

The scare was so frightening that Neville broke his cup again, but the professor didn't care. She walked weakly to her chair, her legs trembling as she walked. When she sat down, she had a hand held over her heart and her eyes closed. What had she seen?

"My dear boy…my poor, dear boy…no…it I kinder not to say…no...don't ask me…"

"What is it, Professor?" Dean Thomas asked immediately. He, like the rest of the class, had gotten up and gathered around Tobias's and Theodore's table, wanting to see the cup.

"My dear," She said breathlessly, her eyes opening. "you have the Grim."

"The what?" Tobias asked, unsure if he should be afraid or not.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Trelawney cried. She looked shaken up—surprised that Tobias didn't understand what this meant. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen—the worst omen—of _death!_ "

The sick feeling grew stronger in Tobias's stomach. It all made sense. The dog he saw on his birthday. What the clerk said in Flourish and Blotts. The dog wasn't Sirius Black—it wasn't _anyone_. It was a thing—an omen.

Tobias was going to die.

" _I_ don't think it looks like a Grim." Hermione said flatly, gaining several looks from her classmates.

* * *

"So you work for him?" Atlas asked, his eyebrow furrowed. "Mister Riddle?"

"Indeed, I do, Atlas." Lucius said coolly, his eyes wandering around the house. Indeed it was a muggle home—Lucius had seen too many (and burned too many) to know exactly what they looked like. The way the furniture was arranged—the couch had been worn out from sitting. He recognized the contraption known as the television sitting on a stand in the corner. And smelled like—well it smelled magicless, if that made sense. But every now and then he would get a hint of something familiar. That familiar scent coming from Atlas.

The blonde man walked over to a picture frame, which held a certificate—similar to the ones they had hanging around the Ministry of Magic, only smaller. His eyes landed on the receiver of the certificate—"Demetric Jones."

"This belongs to your father, yes?" He said, not even turning around to address Atlas.

"Yeah, it is."

Lucius furrowed his brow. "You take his last name?" This time he turned around to face the boy. He looked exactly like Voldemort's human self. But there was some parts of him that wasn't like the Dark Lord—his eyes for instance. They were this familiar hard blue color that he'd seen before, but he couldn't remember where. The only conclusion he could come to is that it was a trait he inherited from his mother—which Lucius had no clue on who it was.

"I have my mother's eyes." Atlas said, interrupting his thoughts. "I know that's what you're looking at. Your thoughts are very loud."

Lucius relaxed his face. "You're skilled in occulmency?"

"Only a bit. I can only read what's on the surface."

"Your mother," The blonde man said, "Do you know who she is?"

The boy shook his head. "No, she is a witch, though—if that was your initial question. I've never met her. My dad doesn't talk about her much."

Lucius nodded, but his mind was still having trouble grasping onto the fact that Lord Voldemort had a child. A child that he's kept hidden for fourteen years. It was obvious that Atlas didn't have a clue who his actual parents are—well who his actual father is. His mother was as much as a mystery as why the Dark Lord kept him hidden for so long. Why he allowed a _muggle_ to raise his only offspring? And why did he replace his true heir with Harry Potter, the boy that was prophesized to defeat him?

Why come out of the shadows now?

"My master tells me you have the mark." Lucius said lowly, being careful to make sure nobody else was listening. "May I see it?"

Lucius held his breath as the boy pulled back his sleeve, revealing the skull tattoo. It was fresh, the blonde man could tell. The way it moved—the way it was shaded in the right places. It made him think about his own initiation.

" _I am right to assume you know what that means, Lucius?"_

"Let me see yours." Atlas said, his eyes now locking with Malfoy's.

Malfoy stood up straighter—not feeling phased by the boy's demand. He pulled his sleeve back, showing his tattoo. It wasn't as dark as Atlas's—but it was definitely clear enough to see. He snatched his sleeve back, never taking his eyes of the boy.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Lucius asked. "You know why I'm here, correct?"

Atlas nodded. "To prepare me. Am I right to assume that you won't tell me what I'm preparing for?"

"It's not that I won't," Lucius said slowly, slipping his wand out of his robes, watching as Atlas did the same. _Good, good._ He walked around the room slowly, testing Atlas's moves. He watched as the boy traveled with his movements, never lowering his wand. _He's keeping his guard up, good._

"I can't tell you." He continued. "But the mark—I can prepare you for that."

"How?" said Atlas. "What can you teach me that Mister Riddle hasn't?"

"Everything. I just need you to trust me."

"Trust you? That's all?"

Lucius nodded. "That's it." He stuck his hand out, keeping his wand up in the process. "Do we have a deal?"

Atlas lowered his wand, making his decision. He stuck his hand out, reaching for Lucius's. "Deal. Now when do we— _"_

 _"STUPIFY!"_

At that moment Atlas was thrown across the room, crashing against the worn out couch. His expression was no less than baffled as Lucius tucked his wand away, looking as if he hadn't done anything wrong.

"What was that for?" Atlas spat, his face red with frustration. "I thought we had a deal! I trusted you!"

Lucius didn't change his expression, offering a hand to help Atlas up. "My apologies." He said coolly. Atlas reached for his hand once more, but this time Lucius did not hex him, but threw him off the couch. He crouched before the boy, his face still stony and emotionless.

"Lesson number one," He said, dusting off his cloak. "Don't trust anyone. Not even me."

* * *

"She's barmy." Hermione said as they walked into Transfiguration. "I can't believe you fell for her act."

Tobias shook his head, taking a seat at a table with Draco and Theodore. "Hard to call it an act when you're being followed by a death omen."

The witch sat at the table in front of them, turning her chair to address the Slytherin. "Rubbish. You haven't seen that dog since your birthday—no way it could be a death omen."

"Says the one with 'very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.'" Said Theodore, mocking Professor Trelawney.

Hermione didn't say anything else as Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom. Today's lessons: Animagi. The only thing Tobias heard was "wizards who could transform at will into animals" and his mind wandered from there. He kept thinking about the big black dog and Sirius Black. When he was supposed to be watching McGonagall demonstrate her Animagi form, he would catch people staring at him—Lavender Brown, the Patil girl, and Dean. Anyone who took Divination with him this morning couldn't keep their eyes off him.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" the Professor said finally, losing her patience with the loss of interest. Even Theodore wasn't interested in her transformation from human to tabby cat. "No that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not gotten applause from a class."

Everyone turned to look at Tobias again, and there was a loud groan from Hermione, who raised her hand.

"Please, Professor," the witch said irritably. "We've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and—"

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Ah, of course. There is no need to say anymore, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Nobody said anything.

"Me." Tobias finally said.

"I see. Then you should know, Mister LeStrange, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues—"

She stopped herself, and the class had noticed that her face had gone red. The red quickly faded away and Professor McGonagall spoke in her usual calm voice. "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney—" She stopped again, eyeing Tobias from across the classroom.

"Anyway, you look in excellent health to me, Mister LeStrange, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

The bell then was rung and the students were dismissed for lunch. Tobias felt a bit better, if Professor McGonagall didn't believe in all that omen stuff, then it must not be real. He would be fine—he was at Hogwarts. He was safe.

But no one else seemed to feel that way, all through lunch, the six could hear whispers and bits of conversation that referred to today's Divination class. Ron was even nervous.

"Oh, cheer up, Ronald." Theodore said, "You heard what McGonagall said. There's nothing to worry about."

Ron chuckled nervously. "I would believe you, Theo. But if you guys don't remember. Tobias ran into a great black _dog_ on his birthday!"

"Probably a stray," Hermione said, unbothered.

"Oh really? And when have you heard about a stray dog roaming about a wizarding neighborhood?!" Ron shook his head. "I'm telling you, if it was the Grim, that's—that's bad. My uncle Billius saw one and—and he died twenty- four hours later!"

"Coincidence," The girl said nonchalantly, helping herself to some more Pumpkin juice. "And even if it wasn't, it's been a month since Tobias saw the dog—and he's still here."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then. They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Tobias's still with us because he's not stupid enough to kick the bucket every time he sees one!"

Ron shook his head. "You're wrong. Somebody tell her she's wrong!"

"I mean," Theodore said, scratching his neck. "Tobias _isn't_ dead."

Draco nodded. "Seeing the Grim is like seeing a pig fly. It rarely ever happens."

"She has a point, Ron." Said Neville.

Ron groaned loudly, dropping his head in his hands. Everyone resumed their lunch while Hermione pulled out her new Arithmancy book, propping up against the pumpkin juice jug.

"I think Divination seems very wooly," She turned another page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing wooly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron, his voice muffled through his hands.

Hermione turned another page. "You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Neville it was a goat."

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

Draco closed his eyes. "Really, Weasley?"

The five boys jumped as Hermione slammed her book shut. She slammed it so hard, part of her lunch flew off her plate, landing on the table. She looked livid—Ron knew he had gone too far.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

Hermione then stood up, snatching her bag and walking out of the Great Hall. Tobias frowned again as he noticed that gold chain glistening through her hair.

"What's she talking about?" Ron said to the others. "She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

* * *

"This is an outrage Dumbledore!" Professor Binns cried. The headmaster had never seen the history professor out of his boring state, but like any other professor, if someone had tampered with his lesson, the headmaster would be sure to hear about it.

"History!" He roared. "It's changing. I've seen the words rewritten before my eyes!"

Dumbledore sat in his chair, his desk covered in history books. It was true, the books were rewriting themselves, even past the point of where the time anomalies took place. And since it was still changing, that meant that Blaise had changed more than the headmaster expected. There was no telling what time period the boy had travelled to, everything was changing.

"Professor," Dumbledore said, and the ghost stopped pacing. "How is it that this time period hasn't been affected?"

"That's the thing." Professor Binns said. "It _has_ changed. We just don't know it because we are in the present—we wouldn't know how things were before. But time travel is finicky—somethings stay the same, and some things are completely different."

"Different like what?"

"Events, of course!" The ghost shouted. "The evidence is right in front of you. History—constantly changing. How will I be able to teach?"

Dumbledore nodded, but Professor Binns's ability to teach or not was far from his mind. What had changed? What was different? What had stayed the same? He looked down at the books—the words were still being rewritten. He paused as something caught his eye—something strange.

"These dates," He said slowly. "…some of them went away."

"Yes, yes." Binns said impatiently. "We know this."

Dumbledore looked up at the ghost. "These are the dates of those who have died. If their date was erased—"

"Yes, that means they never died and are still living. Or maybe they were never born."

Dumbledore was silent after that. All those dates being changed—erased. He couldn't help but feel a pit of fear and joy form in his stomach. It was a tornado of feelings—the fact that some people who were here with him could've been dead in an alternate timeline. Or people he once knew may have never been born. Or those he had once fought to stop were on the run again.

But the questions was who?

"We have to stop it." Binns kept muttering. "Horrible things will happen. Have to stop it."

* * *

Everything had went downhill when he quit teaching at Hogwarts. Nobody wanted to hire a former Death Eater—teacher or not. It didn't even matter if was a member of the Order—nobody really _knew_ about them anyway. He hadn't fought alongside them during the war—he was on the opposing side.

He thought he could make a difference joining the Order and working at Hogwarts. He thought he was proving his worth being a spy for Voldemort. But all things come to an end. It all ended that night in the Chamber—the night he confronted Tobias LeStrange with the truth.

 _"Your grandfather is not who you think he is. He has murdered innocent people! He has manipulated the minds of great wizards and used them to do his bidding. He murdered the people who stood against him! He's a monster!_ "

 _"LIAR!"_

He opened his eyes. His surroundings were no longer the chaotic chamber he saw in his head, but the walls of the Three Broomsticks. He could faintly feel the pain in his leg from when he had broken it—but nothing to serious. He looked at his reflection through his glass of firewhiskey—this was his life now.

"Hey Quirrell." The bartender called. "It's a little early for drinking, isn't it?"

The wizard chuckled. "It's lunchtime, Cornelius."

"And you're the only one here."

Quirrell looked around, finding that the bartender's statement was true. There was no one here—only an elderly couple that was having lunch. His attention was brought back to the bar as Cornelius poured him another drink.

"Aren't you a doctor or sum'?" He said gruffly. "Shouldn't you have patients to tend to?"

"I haven't had a patient in two years." Said Quirrell. He took another sip of fire whiskey, scrunching up his face at the taste.

"What happened?" Cornelius asked. "Your voo-doo magic didn't work anymore?"

The wizard shook his head. "Just some complications at my old job."

"You got fired?"

"Quit, actually. Since then, nothing's been the same."

The bartended frowned. "Must've been more than some complications if it's got you in here drinking every night."

Quirrell smiled—his smile more crooked than ever. "You know what they say. The truth hurts."

 **Author's Note: Well, you all weren't expecting that, were you? And the return of the lost character Professor Quirrell is back! Sorry I've been gone so long!**

 **Follow, Fav, Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	45. POA7: Hippogriff Memories

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there

Become so tired, so much more aware

By becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

~ Numb x Linkin Park

Chapter 45: Hippogriff Memories

"C'mon, now, get a move on." Hagrid yelled. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me."

The six walked slowly behind the class, along with Zabini—dreadful memories began to fill their minds as Hagrid started walking towards the forest.

Theo closed his eyes. "Not the forest. Not the forest." He whispered frantically.

The seven sighed with relief as Hagrid lead them away from the forest, following a path set at the edge of the trees. Everyone began to pick up their pace, meeting Hagrid in what looked like the clearing that Aragog lived in—except there was no large spiders around. The clearing was completely empty.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid yelled once more, pointing to a wooden fence inside the clearing. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books."

Zabini snorted. "And how are we supposed to do that?"

"Do what?" Hagrid blinked.

"Open the book." Zabini rolled his eyes. "How do we open our books?"

"Hasn'—hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?

Everyone shook their head, holding up their copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Tobias saw that most people, like himself, had used their belts to shut the book. Others used rope, tight bags, and even binder clips. They watched as Hagrid's face with red with embarrassment. He shook his head, laughing off the embarrassment. He took Hermione's book, which was wrapped horribly in Spellotape. He held it in the air for everyone to see.

"Yeh've got ter _stroke_ 'em. Like so." He took his forefinger, whipping it back as the book tried to bite him. He inched his finger towards the book again and ran it down the spine, causing the book to shiver and then fall open quietly in his hand.

Zabini rubbed the spine of his book, snorting once more as his book came apart. "Silly me! I should've known—look Crabbe—we have to _stroke_ them." He smirked as his cronies laughed.

Hagrid looked to the six, handing Hermione back her book. "I—I thought they were funny." He said uncertainly and Tobias could tell he was losing his confidence.

"Oh it is, professor." Blaise continued. "And you know what's hilarious? You giving us books that try and rip our bloody fingers off!"

There were murmurs and nods from the rest of the class. Hagrid's face went red again, looking at the students agree with Zabini. Tobias couldn't let this happen—he wanted Hagrid's first day to be great.

"I think it's cool." Tobias said loudly. "What other class has books that actually come to life?"

Theo nodded. "Absolutely none."

"And the first one we get is a bloody menace." Zabini retorted.

Draco whipped around, facing the tan Slytherin. "Why don't you shut it, Zabini?"

Zabini smirked nastily at Malfoy, but nevertheless kept his mouth shut. Everyone's attention was now back on Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his pep.

"Righ' then, so—so yeh've got yer books an'—an' now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on…"

He walked away into the forest, leaving the class alone. Tobias took this chance to round on Zabini. The Slytherin was mistaken if Tobias was just going to stand here and listen to him make fun of Hagrid.

"Why do you always have to ruin everything?" asked Tobias.

Zabini tapped his chin, acting as if he was thinking of a reason. "Let's see. Oh yes, maybe because we have an oaf teaching us about magical creatures. One that can't even get his own bloody pets in line."

"Shut up, Zabini." Draco growled.

"Or what, Malfoy?" The boy spat back. "Just wait until Mother hears about this, she'll—"

"Oooooooooh" squealed Lavender Brown, who was pointing at something across the fence.

Everyone turned to see Hagrid returning from the forest, behind him were the most bizarre creatures the students had ever seen. While these creatures mostly resembled a horse, there were parts of their body that didn't. To begin with, they had wings. Their wings were wide and full of feathers, similar to those of an eagle. They also had a beak and large sunset orange eyes. Each of the creatures had a black leather collar around their neck, which were connected to the long chains Hagrid held in his hands.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid said happily as he walked towards the fence. "Beau'iful, aren't they?"

"Wicked." Ron and Theodore said it at the same time.

Tobias could see what Hagrid meant by beautiful. After fully examining them, they weren't so bad. Each hippogriff was a different color—cloudy gray, bronze, chestnut, and black. Hagrid smiled even bigger as everyone stared at the creatures in awe.

"So! If yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer, just walk on up to the fence. Come on now—don' be shy."

But nobody moved, and after a few seconds, it seemed it was up to Tobias and the rest to set an example for the class. Tobias walked up first, and Draco, Ron, Neville, Theodore, and Hermione walked behind him, cautiously approaching the fence where Hagrid was.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud." Hagrid said, stroking the gray hippogriff. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don' never insult one, 'cause it might be the las thing yeh do."

Tobias could hear Crabbe and Goyle talking in the background, clearly they weren't listening to what Hagrid was saying. But that wasn't what bothered him—he was surprised he didn't hear Zabini chatting back there with them. He turned around to see that his enemy was listening intently to what Hagrid had to say, just like the rest of the class. They made eye contact once more, and Zabini smirked—just like he did at breakfast.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

Everyone nodded slowly, some of the class backed away slowly as Hagrid explained. The hippogriffs didn't look like they had a knack for being polite, the way they were tossing their heads fiercely and flapping their wings. They seemed like they were about to attack Hagrid, who was still holding them by the chains, at any moment.

"Right—who wants ter go first?"

Theodore's mouth dropped open. "He's joking right?"

"It's Hagrid. Is he ever joking?" Draco retorted back.

Hagrid's smile faltered a bit. "No one?"

Tobias looked at his other friends, seeing that all five of them had stepped slowly away from the fence, leaving him closest to Hagrid and the hippogriffs. Tobias sighed.

"I'll do it." He said.

Everyone behind him gasped. He even heard someone say "He really does have a death wish. Remember the tea leaves?" Despite the comments, Tobias ignored them all, climbing over the fence.

"Good man, Tobias!" Hagrid roared. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He untied one of the chains, pulling forward the cloudy gray hippogriff. He slipped the leather collar off of it. Everyone watched in amazement. Blaise's eyes never left the sight of Tobias and the hippogriff.

"Now, yeh've got to keep eye contact." Hagrid said quietly. "Try not ter blink—they don' like it when yeh blink too much…"

Tobias nodded, his eyes never leaving those of Buckbeak's. He felt his eyes begin to water but he never blinked. He felt his heart pounding as the hippogriff stared at him with one eye.

"That's it, Tobias. That's it….now, bow…"

Doing as he was told, Tobias bowed. He wasn't exactly comfortable with having his neck exposed like this, but he prayed to Merlin that Buckbeak wouldn't butcher his neck. He looked up slowly, only to find that Buckbeak was still staring at him.

"Ah," Hagrid said slowly. "Right—back away now, Tobias, slowly, slowly…"

But just as the Slytherin took a step back, Buckbeak bowed.

"Well I'll be damned." Theodore breathed out. "He did it."

"Well done, Tobias!" Hagrid said, his voice once again loud and peppy. "Now yeh can touch him. Pat his beak. Go on!"

Tobias stood up. "Hagrid, I don't think—"

"Its alrigh', Tobias. He won' hurt yeh. He trusts yeh now."

Despite his better judgement, Tobias stepped forward and patted Buckbeak's beak. He watched as the hippogriff lazily closed his eyes, he was enjoying it. The Slytherin was brought back to reality when he heard cheering and applause coming from behind him. He turned to see that his friends were the most supportive out of the group. He also saw Crabbe and Goyle looking greatly disappointed, yet Blaise showed no emotion.

He turned back around just as Hagrid clapped him on the shoulder. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"

The applause stopped and someone must've dropped their book. _Ride it_? The remaining five quickly walked back to the fence, surprised, and afraid, about what was going to happen next.

Draco spoke first. "Hagrid, I really don't think—"

"Maybe next lesson, Hagrid." Hermione said quickly.

Theodore grabbed his hair. "The Grim is following him for Salazar's sake!"

"Nonsense, you three." Hagrid laughed. "Tobias'll be perfectly safe." He turned back to the dark- haired Slytherin and Tobias. "Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint, an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that…"

"I don't like this…" Ron gulped.

Neville gulped in agreement. "Me either."

Tobias acted like he didn't hear them, though he completely agreed. He could feel his heart about to explode as he put his foot on top of Buckbeak's wing, pushing himself up and on his back. Buckbeak then stood up, and Tobias held his breath when he noticed how high off the ground he was—there was no turning back now.

Another problem was that he didn't know what to hold on to, there were feathers everywhere. But Tobias didn't have time to figure it out as Hagrid slapped Buckbeak's hindquarters and the hippogriff took off into the air. Tobias quickly hooked his arms around Buckbeak's neck, closing his eyes as he soared upward. This was nothing like riding a broomstick—it felt the complete opposite of the windy breeze he felt when playing Quidditch. He felt like he was about to be thrown off as the hippogriffs wings flapped under his legs. He could feel the feathers slipping beneath his fingers, but he didn't dare squeeze any tighter.

He slowly opened his eyes, his next distraction being the view of the Hogwarts castle. It was beautiful—he could see everything. Gryffindor tower, the north tower where they had Divination, the astronomy tower, the Quidditch pitch, and more. He took in the fresh fall air, allowing the breeze to flow through his hair. The next stop was the Black Lake, where they flew close enough for Tobias to run his fingers through the warm water. Instead of returning his hands back around Buckbeak's neck, Tobias held them out, feeling the wind blow through his robes.

"Wooooohoooooo!" He yelled gleefully. He yelled so loud he was sure they could hear him from back at the clearing.

They then headed back to the clearing, where everyone was once again cheering and applauding. Tobias could hear a few whistles here and there as Buckbeak reached the ground. He happily pushed himself off, standing beside Hagrid who was roaring with excitement.

"Good work! Good work, Tobias! Okay, who else wants a go?"

This time, everyone came forward, cautiously climbing over the fence. Tobias watched as Draco and Hermione went to the chestnut hippogriff while Theodore, Ron, and Neville went towards the inky black one. He watched as everyone bowed nervously, trying to reenact what he did. He could hear Theo and Ron laughing as Neville kept running backwards away from theirs. He was having so much fun watching his friends, he didn't even notice Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini.

"Hold my bag," Zabini said calmly, approaching the hippogriff named Buckbeak.

Goyle took it. "What are you going to do, boss?"

"It's simple," the boy said, casually rolling up his sleeves. "It's called revenge." He walked up to the hippogriff, staring it right in the face. "I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?"

"Be careful, boss." Crabbe said nervously. "We're not supposed to insult it. The talons remember?"

Zabini ignored him. "Can't be dangerous, to bow to some sap like LeStrange. Now are you, you great ugly degenerate beast?"

The next moment, there was a scream, a slash of talons, and a splash of blood. Everyone went quite as Zabini laid in the middle of the clearing, his arm clutched to his chest.

"Woah der, Buckbeak!" Hagrid roared. "Woah der!"

Tobias and rest walked over to the commotion, watching as Zabini groaned in pain as the blood seeped into his robes. They watched as Hagrid wrestled with Buckbeak, quickly putting the creature back in its collar and quickly reattaching the chain.

While Hagrid was busy with Buckbeak, Tobias looked closely at Zabini. There was a long gash on his arm, the blood still seeping from it and into the grass. There were murmurs and complaints quickly being passed around, but Tobias ignored them all.

"Move, move!" Hagrid shouted, pushing through to get to Zabini. "Someone help me—gotta get him outta here—"

Hermione quickly opened the gate, allowing Hagrid to carry Zabini through. Despite his pain, Zabini was happier than ever. He looked over to LeStrange, who was still eyeing him, and smiled. His smile went bigger when his enemy's eyes narrowed, his fists balling as well. This was just the beginning.

* * *

"He did it on purpose!" Tobias roared, slamming his fists down on the dinner table that night.

Draco crossed his arms. "That wouldn't surprise me. Did you see the way he was smiling—it was like he didn't care about the pain at all."

Zabini's incident was the talk of the night in the Great Hall. Everyone was crowded around the Slytherin table, trying to get the full story from Crabbe and Goyle. The six were sure they were telling everyone different versions, just to make it seem like it was Hagrid's fault.

"D' you think he'll be all right?" Hermione asked.

"Of course he will," Tobias said sternly, gripping his fork tightly "But that isn't the point, Zabini wanted that to happen for a reason."

"And for that to happen in Hagrid's first class," Ron shook his head, a worried look on his face. "that's not good."

Neville sighed, picking through his peas. "Trust Zabini to mess things up for him…"

"And what's worse," said Theodore. "Daphne said they started a petition to _fire_ Hagrid."

Hermione gasped. "They _wouldn't_ fire him, would they?"

"They'd better not." Said Ron.

Theo shrugged. "It's hard to tell. Zabini's mother works in the Ministry with Draco's dad—no doubt she'll make a big debacle of this. Especially since Hagrid got off on those charges from the Chamber of Secrets."

Tobias slammed down his fork, getting up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, standing up as well.

"Hospital wing." His cousin responded through gritted teeth.

When Tobias pushed through the Great Hall doors, he noticed he was being followed. He turned his head to see that his friends were behind him, walking as quickly as they could to catch up. Tobias didn't stop until they reached the hospital wing, and even then, the Slytherin boy did not stop. He burst through the doors, coming face to face with Zabini, who was sitting on one of the hospital beds. His arm was in a sling.

"Aw, you came to check on me." He said nastily, that smile still on his face. "I'm flattered."

Tobias walked closer, his hands ready to strangle him. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What happened in Hagrid's class," Draco said. "You know exactly what he's talking about."

Zabini smiled. "I hope you aren't referring to Hagrid's poor choice of class pets, because that's hardly my fault."

Tobias grabbed him by his robes. "You insulted Buckbeak on purpose. Why?! I saw you watching Hagrid when he was telling me what to do—you did the opposite on purpose!"

"I love how this is really getting to you, LeStrange." The boy leaned closer, his nose touching Tobias's. "And this is only the beginning."

Ron stepped forward. "Beginning of what?!"

"Revenge."

Draco balled his fists. "Revenge for what?"

Theodore rolled his eyes. "Here we go with this again. Haven't you learned already that your plans never work on us?"

"That's why I'm not going for _you._ " Zabini said, his eyes still locked on Tobias's. "And to answer your question Malfoy—revenge for last year, when you all humiliated me in front of everyone in the Great Hall."

Ron frowned. "What?"

"We didn't do that." Said Theo. "I would've remembered."

Tobias gritted his teeth, not even addressing the fact that he didn't remember that happening either. "You just don't know when to quit."

Zabini looked at the rest of the group. "I told you all, you will never get rid of me. But I'll get rid of you and everyone you hold dear here at Hogwarts—Hagrid is only the beginning. Once he's fired—I think I'll go after Dumbledore next."

Tobias tightened his grip. He wanted to strangle Zabini—he had never felt this angry. Not since Quirrell. He probably just cost Hagrid his job. And it was his plan to do so. Tobias was so angry he didn't even see the lights flickering on and off. He only realized when Draco grabbed him.

"Calm down." He heard the blonde Slytherin whisper. "You're messing with the lights."

The other Slytherin let go of Zabini's robes, backing away slowly from the boy. He turned around again, pushing through Ron and Theodore.

"Where are you going now?" Hermione called after him.

"Hagrid's."

The witch flinched a bit as Tobias slammed the doors to the hospital wing, leaving the five alone with Zabini. She knew Tobias was upset, she was upset herself—but something had been bugging her since they stepped in the room. Her time turner was buzzing under her robes, it had never done that before. It was how she had been getting to all her classes—but now something felt wrong.

"We have to follow him." Said Draco, walking towards the exit doors.

Theodore pointed to Zabini. "What about him?"

"Forget him. Family first."

The blonde Slytherin then walked out, the rest of the boys behind him. Hermione took one last look at Zabini, who wasn't paying attention to them anymore. She noticed he was gripping something from under his robes—the same way she had when she noticed her time turner was buzzing.

"You coming, Granger?" Draco had walked back in, his eyebrow raised as she noticed that was still standing in the same spot before he had left.

"Coming." The witch said back, her eyes still on Zabini. She followed Draco out of the hospital wing, frowning when she noticed the buzzing stopped. _Strange._

* * *

"He did what?!" Mad- Eye roared. "It's the first day of school!"

Molly Weasley shook her head. "Is the Zabini boy alright?"

"Madam Pomfrey confirmed he'll be alright." Said Snape. "He won't be able to move his arm for a while, though."

Kingsley shook his head. "The school board has been chaos since Talia Zabini got the word. There're rumors of a trial for Hagrid—execution for the hippogriff."

"I always hated that Zabini woman." Mad-Eye grunted. "Sometimes I think she's worse than Umbridge."

Lupin sighed. "You know what they say. The student is always worse than the teacher."

"Dumbledore?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking towards the old Professor.

The headmaster was silent. Another discovery, the same day. This must have been a wonderful first day for the students. He held the piece of parchment in his hand, ready to announce the next discovery of the night.

"There's nothing we can do about Hagrid at the moment." He said calmly. "We will have to wait until the school board sends us a response. However, there is something we can do about this." He set the paper on the table, where Lupin quickly grabbed it.

"Quirinus Quirrell. Death—June fourth, nineteen ninety- two. Dumbledore—this doesn't make sense. Quirrell isn't dead."

"Where did you get that from?" asked Snape.

"It doesn't matter where he got it from." Arthur Weasley chuckled. "This is obviously a prank. Excuse me for over stepping, but we should be worrying about Hagrid. You could lose your leverage on the school, Professor."

The old professor ignored him, turning to Snape. "Professor Binns came to see me today—his history books are being rewritten."

Mad-Eye took a swig form his flask. "Seems like Fred and George have found a new trick, eh?"

"Rewritten?" Lupin was no intrigued. "Rewritten how?"

Dumbledore pulled out the time master. The same one he showed Blaise Zabini in his office yesterday. "It seems that someone has been tampering with time, changing things—changing history as we know it."

Kingsley frowned. "Who? How?"

The headmaster held up the time master for everyone to see. "With this—there is only two of this make. I have one—and Lord Voldemort."

Everyone grew silent. Lord Voldemort changing time? They looked at each other, questioning the reality they lived in. What had changed? What was the Dark Lord changing?

"Over the summer," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort taught Blaise Zabini the ability of time travel. I do not know what time period the boy went to, or what he changed—but the effects are taking their toll."

Arthur swallowed. "And that paper? About Quirrell?"

"A piece of paper I was able to salvage from the original timeline."

"Original?" Molly frowned. "What do you mean? Is this timeline—is it not real?"

Dumbledore nodded. "This timeline is real, of course, but it is a branch of the original timeline that has already been set. When Blaise Zabini went back in time, carrying out Lord Voldemort's bidding, he created a new timeline, which is the timeline we are living in now."

"So in the original timeline," Mad-Eye said slowly. "Quirrell is dead?"

"Yes, and who knows how many others are as well."

The table was silent again. This was all too much—Sirius Black, the dementors, and now this. Time travel. The fact that they were living in an alternate universe—that some of the members sitting at this table could be dead or worse.

"You want to fix it." Snape finally said. "You want to return to the original timeline."

The old professor nodded.

"Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Arthur said nervously. "Going back and changing history, after it's already been tampered with once?"

"Not as dangerous as it will be if we stay here—especially for the Zabini boy." Said Dumbledore.

"But the changes it will make Dumbledore," said Lupin. "People like Quirrell, who are originally dead—what if it takes _vital_ people?"

Mad-Eye grunted. "People like you, Professor."

All eyes landed on Dumbledore, waiting for him to make a decision, but his decision had already been made. He had made it when he found out that Blaise had been changing time and how his actions were affecting him greatly. No matter the consequences, the old wizard knew he had to change the timeline back to what it originally was.

"The longer we stay here, the more we put the boy at risk. He is the only one who knows what the original timeline looks like. His memories will start to clash—causing effects that could be fatal. We must do something."

* * *

It was nightfall when Draco and the rest caught up with Tobias, finding him at Hagrid's door. The door opened and the dark-haired Slytherin walked inside. The other five ran towards the hut, wanting to catch the door before it closed. Barely making it, Hagrid let them inside—everyone could tell he was still upset from the incident earlier today.

"Madam Pomfrey did the best she could," He said softly, his tone rather depressing. "but he's sayin' it's still agony…covered in bandages…moanin'…"

"He's faking it, Hagrid." Said Tobias, trying to keep his anger down. "It's all a part of his plan. He wanted Buckbeak to attack him on purpose. He wanted to get rid of you."

Hagrid shook his head, not even seeming outraged by the news. "'Spose he succeeded then. Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"But you aren't fired, Hagrid!" Theodore exclaimed. "That has to count for something."

"Not yet, I ain'. But 's only a matter o' time. School gov'nors have bin told, o' course." Hagrid sniffed. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later…done flobberworms or summat…Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson…'S all my fault…"

"It's _not…_ " Hermione said earnestly. "It's Zabini's. The lesson was wonderful Hagrid."

Ron crossed his arms. "Speaking of Zabini, does anybody know what the bloody hell he was talking about?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"He said he got you in trouble as a part of some revenge plan against us." Draco explained. "Said we humiliated him in the Great Hall last term."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't remember that."

"Me either." Ron said. He turned to look at Tobias. "You think he's toying with us?"

Tobias shrugged. "I don't know. He looked serious—but how could he be plotting revenge against something that we don't remember?"

"Or never happened." Draco added in.

Theodore slouched back on Hagrid's couch. "Zabini ruins everything. It's his fault we're stuck in this mess—he just had to go insult Buckbeak. Now Crabbe and Goyle are spreading these fairy stories all over the castle." He then sat up. "Hey Hagrid, what if we told Dumbledore what really happened?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "We were all there—we could back you up."

Hagrid nodded gratefully, tears falling down his face. The next moment and he had grabbed the six third- years into a bone-crushing hug.

Hermione frowned as she smelled the whiskey from Hagrid's cup. "I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid." She removed herself from the hug, taking the cup outside, along with the whiskey jug, to dump it out.

Hagrid let the boys go, walking outside behind her. "Ar, maybe she's right." The next sound they heard was a loud splash, causing the boys to jump. They looked even more baffled when Hermione walked back inside like nothing happened.

"What happened?" Draco asked.

Hermione shook his head. "Nothing. He stuck his head in the water barrel."

Her story was proven correct when Hagrid walked back inside, his face and hair soaked, resembling a giant shaggy dog. He shook his head frantically, getting the six wet in return.

"Tha's better." He said, smiling a little. "Listen, it was good of yeh to come an' see me, I really—"

Hagrid stopped talking, noticing it was dark outside and he had six third- year students in his hut. One of them being Tobias LeStrange, who Dumbledore specifically said shouldn't be out after dark. The Tobias LeStrange, who had been attacked by the dementors on the school train and was being targeted by a mass murderer.

"Uh oh." Theo said, noticing Hagrid's change in demeanor.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?" He roared. "DON' YOU KNOW THER'S A MASS MURDER ON THE LOOSE! YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, TOBIAS! AN' YOU FIVE! LETTIN' HIM!"

Hagrid quickly grabbed Tobias's arm, pulling him towards the door. The five followed, trying to hold in their laughter as Hagrid was handling their friend like he was a disobedient first- year.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said angrily. "I'm takin' yet all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walking down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"

* * *

She didn't want to be here anymore than he did. But they needed to talk. Ever since their confrontation at the end of the last school term, all the questions that she tried to suppress came back to her. She needed answers, and unfortunately, he was the only one who could give them to her.

They sat in his study. Despite his nature, the room actually felt warm and lively. It made her even more uncomfortable.

"Why won't you let him go to Hogwarts?" She said, her lips thin. She felt disgusted at the way he stared at her, like he adored her. She would've cursed him had he not been sick already. _Just die already._

Tom Riddle frowned. "It isn't me. It's the muggle. You wanted him to live with that degenerate—so now here we are."

"Atlas is getting older." Said McGonagall. "He is a wizard and he belongs in a wizarding school."

"Then why?" Riddle seethed. "Did you make me hide him? Hide his heritage?"

"You know exactly why!" she snapped back. "How were we supposed to raise him?! During a war—a war that you _started!_ "

Tom Riddle rolled his eyes. "Always pointing the finger, aren't we Minerva?"

" _You_ lied to _me_ —you were leading the Death Eaters right under my nose. I would have never even thought of bringing Atlas into this world had you told me the truth."

"And what about you?" The man said lowly. McGonagall's lips when thinner. "You were still giving information to the Order…you were a part of the war as much as I was. Atlas wouldn't have been safe with either of us."

The witch sighed. "I just want to see him, Tom. He doesn't even know who we really are. He—he thinks we're counselors, making sure he doesn't use his magic destructively."

"He's your son, Minerva." The wizard smirked. "I doubt he would do anything _destructive."_

"You say that, but he's your son as well." There was silence. "Have you seen him recently?"

"No." Tom lied.

McGonagall shook her head. "He doesn't even know what he's capable of. All that magic gone to waste. It's a shame."

Tom Riddle almost smirked at this, but kept his frown, nodding in agreement. She didn't know that he had been visiting the boy during the summer, preparing him for the ceremony. She didn't know that her son, Atlas Riddle, had taken the mark of the Dark Lord and had sworn his loyalty to him. She didn't know that her son was currently being trained by Lucius Malfoy. She didn't know that her son would be attending Hogwarts next year. But she would know soon, when it would already be too late.

"Yes," Tom said dully, matching the witch's tone. "Such a shame indeed."

* * *

Blaise couldn't sleep. He tried, but each time he was awaken. For one, he was furious. He had planned out his revenge perfectly—he sacrificed his bloody arm! Only for Tobias and his gang of misfits to not remember that they had completely embarrassed him in front of everyone last year. How could they forget? How could LeStrange forget? That he asked Dumbledore to subtract seventy points from Slytherin house because of Blaise? It made his stomach boil—he felt like his plans were going to waste.

Or maybe LeStrange was toying with him. Maybe he did remember and wanted Blaise to look stupid in front of everyone. Blaise saw how mad he was, maybe he did remember.

But there was another reason he couldn't sleep. He had an excruciating headache. Madam Pomfrey had given him some potion for it, saying it may have been side- affect from the first potion she gave him for his gash, but Blaise thought otherwise.

Ever since the dementor attack, things have been _strange._ His time master had been going haywire—buzzing uncontrollably at different times of the day. It started in Care of Magical Creatures and had gotten even worse when he was being confronted by LeStrange. Was this another thing he shared with his enemy? Seeing as LeStrange was in Care of Magical Creatures and the hospital wing when it began buzzing. He gritted his teeth. _No!_

He sat up, but only to fall back down in a yelp of pain. His head started throbbing once more, he closed his eyes hoping that the pain would stop, but it only got worse. He felt like his head was splitting—like someone was pushing a stake through his skull. He tried to slow his breathing, but he couldn't calm down enough to make it happened. The next moment he was swallowed by the darkness.

 _"I have a few extra points to assign." Dumbledore said. He stood at his podium in the Great Hall. Everyone had gathered for the Great Breakfast Feast, celebrating the capture of the Heir of Slytherin and the revival of those who were petrified. "But first an announcement from Professor McGonagall."_

 _Professor McGonagall stood up, walking promptly to the podium. "All exams have been canceled for this year!"_

 _The Great Hall erupted in cheers and whistles. Blaise rolled his eyes. He looked over at Ginny, feeling his heart warm as he saw her smiling and laughing again. He gathered up enough spirit to clap along with the rest of the students. Today was a good day. Ginny was safe and he had been awarded Special Services to the School from Dumbledore himself. Yes, today was definitely a good day._

 _"Next," Professor Dumbledore announced. "Professor Lockhart will no longer be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, due to fact that he has lost his memory."_

 _More claps and cheers. Blaise had no choice but to join in on this one. He hated Lockhart._

 _"Now to the points. To Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley, for outstanding bravery and service to the school, I award Gryffindor fifty points."_

 _The Gryffindor table broke into louder cheers and claps. Blaise watched as Longbottom smiled and snorted as Weasley's face went red as everyone clapped and cheered for him. A question, however, sparked his mind in the midst of the cheers. Why didn't LeStrange take the credit for the Chamber of Secrets? Or Malfoy? Or Nott? They were down there, too._

 _"These aren't points," Dumbledore continued. "But I would like to sincerely apologize to Theodore Nott, for the emotional distress that was caused during his conviction as the Heir of Slytherin." Blaise rolled his eyes at this._

 _Theodore nodded at the man. "I accept your apology."_

 _"And those are all the announcements I have," Everyone clapped and whistled as Dumbledore stepped down. Blaise went back to eating his breakfast, laughing as Crabbe and Goyle made jokes about LeStrange. His laughter stopped as he was distracted by a pain in his head. He grabbed both sides of his temple as the pain grew stronger. He felt like his head was splitting. The laughter and cheers grew louder and louder—louder than Blaise could bear. He felt like his head was about to explode—this was wrong. Something wasn't right._

His eyes opened. His clothes were sweaty and his breathing was heavy and erratic. He sat up once more, trying to recollect what happened. He remember this moment—but it was different. Dumbledore didn't take the points—Slytherin never lost seventy points. Blaise frowned, but that didn't make sense. He thought it may have been a dream, but it felt _so_ real. Like it actually happened. But it was wrong—Slytherin did lose seventy points, so why did this memory feel so real?

He pulled out the time master from under his pajamas. What was happening? Were his memories changing?

"What's happening to me?" He breathed out.

 **Author's Note: Time Travel is a fickle friend, Blaise! *In my Lockhart voice* Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	46. POA8: Anyone Who is Anyone

Wish we could turn back time

to the good ole days

Where our momma sang us to sleep

but now we're stressed out

Stressed Out x Twenty – One Pilots

Chapter 46: Anyone who is Anyone

 _To my dearest grandson…_

That was all he could write. Lord Voldemort sat back in his desk chair, trying to muster up something else to add to his letter to Tobias. He didn't know why he was such in a rush to write it—he still had time left. But he felt like it wasn't enough. Some could say he was paranoid. That if he didn't write this letter, and time ran out, the Order would have won. His legacy—his plans—would have all gone to waste. Even when he was losing it all, he still needed control. He gritted his teeth at the fact that even when he would be gone, he would still need Harry Potter. He lifted his quill again.

 _By the time you read this I will be gone. Physically but not spiritually. I know that you, Tobias, will live through me. All is not lost, my heir, it is just beginning. And it begins with you. Now is the time for you to take my place, to hold up the mantle that I have been building for you._

The Dark Lord stopped again, growing frustrated at his words. He wanted to finish this himself. Twelve years ago he had dreams of the whole world drowning in fire—and he and his heir, Tobias LeStrange, would be standing in the middle of it—relishing in the way the flames kissed their skin. Voldemort would smile because Dumbledore would have lost—their savior Harry Potter would be no more. The reign of Lord Voldemort would live forever. But time was running out and those dreams were about to end. For him, at least.

 _There will be those who will try to shade you away from your destiny. Do not let them. There will be those who will challenge you to your throne. Do not let them win. You must be strong without me. You are all we have left. As long as my blood runs through you, you have the power to achieve great things, Tobias._

There was a knock on the door, and the dark wizard set down his quill.

"Come in." He said, his voice at a higher pitch than usual. It was scratchy, weak.

The door opened, and Terrell Nott stepped in. He was holding a silver file in his hand—the same silver files that belonged to St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The man said nothing as he walked over to the seat across from Voldemort. As he sat down, he slid the file across the desk. The Dark Lord didn't even bother to open it.

"How long?" He simply asked.

"We can't be for certain." Nott answered. "Maybe until the new year, possibly a little after."

Voldemort nodded, turning in his seat to face the portrait of the LeStrange family overhead. "What do the healers believe is wrong?"

"According to your blood samples, nothing. However, Horace believes it is an affect from the diary. It was a horcux, wasn't it? Slughorn was too shaken up to confirm."

"Yes." The Dark Lord wheezed. "It was a horcux. It was the only one I made—I had plans to make more, but I…." He trailed off.

Terrell was silent. He knew what was to come next. Tobias. Many believed his master had become weaker, softer after the adoption of the one Harry Potter. The child wasn't even his true heir, yet Voldemort treated him as his crown jewel. It was ironic, really. The child that was prophesized to destroy him was now his hope for survival. Well, given the circumstances, the survival of his ideals.

The man cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "The increased weakness in your body and in your magic is an affect from the horcrux. It will only continue—until…"

"I am dead."

"Yes sir." Nott swallowed.

Voldemort did not respond to this. In fact, this wasn't news to him. He was dying. He could feel his magic slipping away from him—the simplest of spells were harder to cast. He felt like a child who had just discovered their magical potential. He felt helpless. But for some reason he did not dwell on his weakness, but only what was to come in the future. When he was gone—what had he'd done to prepare himself for a moment like this? What did he have to show?

"Terrell," He said softly.

"Yes, my Lord." He heard his servant say behind him—his voice unsure.

"Do you know why I took Harry Potter, that night in Godric's Hallow? The prophecy was clear… he would be the one who would destroy me. The mission was simple… kill the boy, but instead, I took him. Raised him. Trained him. Do you know why?"

He turned around his chair around, facing Nott once more. The man only looked at him—of course he didn't know the answer. No one knew why Lord Voldemort had kidnapped the boy who was meant to kill him in the end. The obvious answer was to turn him against the Order. But that could've been done without taking him. So why had he done it?

Nott shook his head. "No sir. I don't."

Voldemort smiled, his spikey teeth showing. He raised a finger to his temple. "Because a voice told me. I was a second away from killing him, from ending it all. When I saw something, my death. I was nothing, nothing but a scar on the boy's forehead. So I had to make a decision—take this chance on death, or take the boy, and pray to Salazar that he wouldn't turn on me."

There was a silence. Terrell had never heard this story before. His master seemed to be in a trance—giving off an aura that was almost nostalgic.

"So I took him, I took Harry Potter. Raised him as my own and claimed him as my heir. For those twelve years, Terrell, I felt immortal. Not because I had the horcrux—because I had him. Because I would live through him- Harry Potter would be no more. And even on my death bed, I am still immortal."

He summoned his quill, quickly finishing the rest of his letter. He folded it, sliding it across the table to Nott. Confused as Terrell was, he took the letter. _And even on my death bed, I am still immortal._ What did that mean? He looked down at the name written on the backside of the letter. _Tobias._ It then clicked, as the Dark Lord hoped it would, he supposed.

"This letter," Terrell said slowly. "I suppose you want me to give this to him when it's time. Before the Order can get to him?"

Voldemort nodded.

"And how do you know this will work? How are you sure that Dumbledore won't persuade him? There would be no reason to uphold your deal."

"Because in a sense," his master said slowly, his eyes locked on the picture of an eleven year old Tobias LeStrange. A picture he kept to remind him of his mission. "I am all he has left."

* * *

Sirius woke with a start. He was lying on something cold, and soon realized it was the rock hard ground. Blinking his eyes a few times, he found himself coming to focus inside of a cave. He groaned, covering his eyes with his hands, remembering how he had ended up inside of this cave. He was spotted.

"Fucking Muggle." He breathed out, sitting up to take in the rest of his surroundings. He didn't have anything on but a pair of black trousers, which were torn to his knees.

He knew at the moment he would have to stay here. For a few days, a week at least. Until the Ministry was finished searching the area. He knew it was a stupid idea. Thinking that the muggle wouldn't have recognized him—given the area was so far away from Moony's apartment, he figured she didn't have a clue who he was. But as soon as he came into view, she picked up the telephone and called the police. Sirius transformed, sprinting off into the woods before the muggle police could show, or even worse—the dementors.

So here he was. Half- naked inside of a cave. Nothing to eat. Nowhere to sleep. It wasn't safe to head back to the Shrieking Shack. Not now—not ever possibly. There was no way in telling when the Ministry would be done checking the area. Honestly, he didn't even know where he was. He groaned again, falling back against the ground. It was stupid of him to leave Hogwarts' grounds. His mission was to get to Harry, and now it seemed he was being pushed ten steps back.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a tattered photograph. It was ripped and torn in several different places, but the picture was still clear. And that was all that mattered. It was a picture from Harry's first birthday—James had sent it to him. They had gotten him a broom. James chuckled lightly as the young Harry flew back and forth across the scene, James chasing behind him and Lily laughing at the sight, though it looked as if she wanted to snatch Harry off of the contraption.

He sighed, setting the picture down on his chest. He stared at the ceiling of the cave, trying to gather his thoughts. He needed to get back to Hogwarts—that was for sure. But how? With the Ministry after him, it wouldn't be safe to go back in the open right now—transfigured or not.

He stood up, pulling out his wand. Remus had given it to Sirius a few weeks after he had showed up in his apartment. It felt weird, holding it in his hand again. He hadn't done magic in twelve years—to do it now felt so unnatural.

"Expecto Patronum." He whispered. There was a string of silver, and then a silvery husky dog appeared before him.

He sighed preparing his message. "I wouldn't be asking you for help unless I really needed it, Moony. But I have to get inside Hogwarts. We're all he has, Moony. Please."

He set down his wand, watching as the silver dog continued to float.

Sirius nodded. "You know where to go." And with that, the silver dog ran out of the cave, disappearing into the light.

He looked back at the picture, his eyes locked on Harry. _We're all he has left._

* * *

It was Thursday morning when Zabini returned to class. He walked into double potions, his usual prep boy swagger filling the dungeon. There were whispers and faces of surprise when they saw the tan Slytherin walk in with his arm wrapped in a sling. He held his head up, as if he was some war hero and his arm was proof that he had fought valiantly. The six watched as Zabini walked to his usual table. Tobias frowned as the Slytherin shooed Crabbe away, leaving him alone at the table—without a lab partner.

"How is it, Boss?" Goyle asked. "Does it still hurt?"

Zabini shrugged. "Just a tad. Nothing too serious, however."

"If it isn't too serious, why is his arm in a sling?" Ron grumbled.

Theodore shook his head. "Probably to make everyone feel bad for him. It's pathetic."

The classroom went silent as Snape walked inside the classroom. He walked swiftly to the front of the room, scanning the class for any missing students. His eyes locked on Zabini's, who was still sitting at his table alone.

"Mister Zabini," Snape said curiously. "I wasn't expecting you to be joining us until sometime next week."

"Well, professor," The boy said snobbishly. "I couldn't let the mistake of one teacher affect the success of another."

Tobias gritted his teeth—Zabini was mocking Hagrid.

Snape, however, showed no emotion to Blaise's comment. "As that may be, my success is limited—seeing as you have chosen to work alone."

"Oh. I was hoping you would assign me a partner."

Draco gripped his quill. "And there's the punchline."

"Assign you a partner?" Snape asked skeptically.

Blaise shrugged. "Or I could just choose." He turned, surveying the room. His searched stopped at the table where Theodore, Ron, and Neville were sitting. A small smirk crept over his lips. "How about Ron Weasley?"

Ron went red. "Over my dead—"

"Weasley!" Snape snapped, not recognizing Zabini's play. "Come up front, you will be partners with Mister Zabini for the class period."

"But-!"

" _Now._ " Snape said lowly, and Ron had no choice but to collect his things, plopping down in the seat beside Zabini.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm." He hissed at Blaise, who only smiled nastily at him.

"Today," the potion's professor announced. "We will be making Shrinking Solution. All of your ingredients are laid out for you on the table. All you have to do is simply follow the instructions and turn in the potion at the end of class. Any missed steps or mistakes will result in point deductions."

The class stayed silent as everyone worked on their potions. At Tobias's table, Draco and Hermione were basically doing all of the work—Tobias could barely focus. His eyes were watching Zabini and Ron. He could tell that his Gryffindor friend was livid—he hated Zabini. Ron hated him even more once he found out that the tan Slytherin was feeding him lies about Draco's father last year. And now he was forced to be Zabini's partner in potions.

 _This is only the beginning._ He closed his eyes as he heard his enemy's words echo in his head. Was this another part of his plan? To get rid of Ron? He then looked at Professor Snape, who seemed to have no clue about what was going on. He frowned. Or was his plan to get rid of Snape?

"Oi," He heard his cousin whisper. Tobias looked back at his table to find the blonde Slytherin staring at him. Hermione seemed too focused on the potion to realize what was happening. But as much as she seemed focused, she seemed out of it as well.

"Hm?" Tobias said, flipping a page in his potions book.

Draco nodded towards Zabini's table. "What do you think he's up to?"

The other Slytherin shrugged. "I don't know." But he could tell from the way Ron was breathing that his anger was rising, and he was about to explode any minute.

"Step one," Blaise drawled. "Cut the daisy roots into even pieces."

Ron sat there, pretending that he didn't even hear Zabini. He stared at his book, trying to put on a front that he was reading the steps if Snape looked up and saw them doing nothing.

"Hellooooo," called Blaise. "Earth to Weasley. Or are you lot deaf as well?"

" _What?_ " Ron snarled through gritted teeth.

Zabini smirked at Ron's temper. "Cut….the daisy roots." He sighed. "I would do it myself, but my arm is injured. Can't do a thing."

The red- haired Gryffindor rolled his eyes, snatching the knife off the table. He could barely control his anger as he cut the roots. Well, he wasn't exactly cutting them. It was more like chopping—butchering. He was cutting them so roughly, each piece was a different size.

"Evenly, Weasley!" He heard Blaise hiss. "Bloody hell. Where did you learn to cut roots? Your barbaric mother?!"

The class jumped when they heard Ron slam his knife on the table. "That's it." He growled.

But before anything could happen Tobias's arm shot up into the air. "Professor Snape!"

Snape looked up, his eyes narrowing at the uneven daisy roots on Zabini's and Ron's table. He pushed back his annoyance at the scene to acknowledge Tobias. "Yes, Mister LeStrange?"

"I would like to switch with Ron." The boy said clearly, causing Draco to shoot him a confused look.

Snape frowned as well. "Any reason why?"

Tobias held his tongue, already regretting what he was about to say. "I think it would be better if I worked with Blaise. With us both being heirs and all."

"What is he doing?" Neville whispered to Theodore.

Theodore shook his head. "Hell if I know."

Snape stared at Tobias before a moment, before coming to a decision. "Fine. Weasley, switch with LeStrange."

Tobias packed his things quickly, sitting down in the seat that Ron was just sitting in. He looked back at his old table, glad that Ron was now calming down. He turned back around, beginning step two of the potion: skinning the shrivelfig. Tobias tried to do it as fast as he could, but Zabini was faster.

He chuckled as Tobias threw the skinned shrivelfig down the table. "Always have to ruin the fun, don't you, LeStrange?"

Tobias ignored him, and that made Zabini's smile grow even wider.

"Of course you do." He said nastily. "On to other matters. Have you seen your friend Hagrid lately?"

"That's none of your business." Tobias snapped.

"That's where you're wrong. Mother wasn't too happy about my injury. I'm right to assume that you know my Mother works for the school board. Some say she has more influence than Malfoy." He chuckled. "And with a lasting injury such as this, I'm afraid Hagrid won't be teaching much longer. Shame isn't it, LeStrange?"

The other Slytherin balled his fist, trying to keep himself from killing the boy. "What's your play, Zabini? We didn't _do_ whatever it is you think we did-"

"But you did." Zabini hissed, his smile dropping. "I don't know what you did LeStrange, to make me forget. Play the fool all you want, but you will pay. All of you will pay."

"So Hagrid gets fired and then what?" Tobias spat. "You think we're just going to leave Hogwarts one by one?"

Zabini chuckled darkly. "Oh no, I don't want you to _leave_ , LeStrange. But with Hagrid gone, and then Dumbledore, and possibly McGonagall, your reign at Hogwarts will be done. Your life will become a _living hell._ "

Tobias felt his insides burn. He didn't even care that Zabini was still stuck on this event that never happened, he cared about the fact that Zabini was going through all this to get the teachers at Hogwarts fired.

"If it's me you want," Tobias said lowly, "Come after me. Leave the rest out of it."

"It's too late to negotiate. It's time you tasted your own medicine."

Zabini didn't say anything else, which was due to the fact that Neville seemed to be having a panic attack back at his and Theodore's table. Snape looked up, quickly walking over to the table where the incident was taking place. Neville whimpered as Snape stopped at the table, peering into the cauldron. The professor ladled some up, and instead of the bright, neon green color it was supposed to be, it was—

"Orange," Snape drawled, pouring the potion back into the cauldron where everyone could see. "Mister Longbottom, how many rat spleens did you put in this mix? I say spleens because it is apparent that you put more than the instructed one that was needed."

Neville's face went pink and he wouldn't stop trembling. Tobias would've thought after the incident in the Chamber of Secrets, Neville would see Snape as an ally rather than a mean, creepy professor, but today, he was proven wrong.

"It was me professor," Theodore spoke up, a guilty smile on his face. "I put an extra rat spleen in the potion."

Snape snapped his head towards the boy. "Do you think this is a game, Mister Nott? If this potion could save your life, would you find it funny that someone put an extra rat spleen in the mix, making the potion unfit to use?"

Theodore's smile dropped, and Neville looked on the verge of tears.

"What's up his arse?" Ron whispered to Draco. The blonde Slytherin only shrugged.

"Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? And who put more than of a dash of leech juice in here? What do I have to do to make you two understand?!"

Hermione stepped forward, refusing to hear any more of this. "Please, sir. I could—I could help them put it right—"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly. He didn't even bother to look at her. "Mister Nott and Mister Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to Longbottom's toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

With a swish of his robes, Snape moved and returned to his desk. He sat down calmly, picking up his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ as if he hadn't just spewed his anger on Neville and Theo. Neville shivered breathlessly with fear and Theodore looked as if he had been brainwashed.

Tobias's attention was diverted by Seamus Finnegan, who had come over to "borrow" their brass scales.

"Hey, Tobias," He whispered. "have you heard? _Daily Prophet_ this morning—they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

The Slytherin looked at the boy. "Where?"

Seamus sniffed. "Not too far from here. It was a muggle who saw him, though. 'Course she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just some ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone…"

"Not too far from here, huh?" Blaise interrupted. "There's no mystery about where he's going."

"You think he's coming to Hogwarts?" Seamus asked, his excitement rising.

Zabini rolled his eyes. "Why wouldn't he? His prey is here."

Zabini watched as Tobias's face turned red at his comment. He smiled malevolently, his eyes fixed on his enemy. "You know, if I were you, LeStrange, I would try to get to Black before he gets to me. But of course, you aren't me. I would have done something before now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't you _know,_ LeStrange?" Zabini smirked. "Anyone who is anyone knows about it."

Tobias frowned. "Knows about what?"

"Maybe it's best if you stay here." The other boy continued, ignoring Tobias's question. "Leave it to the dementors. You don't know a thing about revenge. But like I said, if I was you, I'd hunt him down."

" _What are you talking about?_ "

Zabini didn't answer, and at that moment Snape stood up to address the class once more. "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's and Nott's…"

Everyone put their stuff away, their clatters of cauldrons and knives were drowned out by Crabbe and Goyle's laughter. Tobias ignored them, following Draco to the sink in the corner of the room. The blonde Slytherin spoke first as they washed their hands.

"Don't let Zabini get to you." He muttered as he stuck his hands under the water.

"What was he talking about?" said the other boy. "Revenge?"

Draco felt his heart stop, his hands slightly hesitating before continuing washing the rest of his materials. Zabini knew. Or did he? Or was he just toying with Tobias like he was doing about this Great Hall event that never happened. Either way, Tobias couldn't know.

"Why would I want revenge on Black? I thought he was the one who wanted revenge?"

"It's nothing." The blonde Slytherin said it too quickly. "I mean…he's making it up. He's trying to make you do something stupid. Look at what he try to do to Ron."

Tobias didn't say anything. He only followed the rest of the students to Neville's and Theodore's table, where Snape was awaiting to test their potion. He saw Hermione slowly stepping away from their table, no doubt she had helped them with the potion.

"Everyone gather 'round." The professor said, his face as dead as it was cold. "I will now demonstrate what happens when you do not follow the _exact_ directions listed for a potion. If, as I don't doubt, these two have done it wrong, Longbottom's toad is likely to be poisoned.

Everyone watched fearfully, there were a few snickers here and there from the Slytherins. Neville whimpered as Professor Snape picked up Trevor and trickled a few drops down his throat. Hermione gave a small smile as she saw that the potion was now green instead of orange.

There was a moment of silence, and then a small pop. Trevor the toad was now Trevor the tadpole, wriggling away in Snape's palm. There was a small applause from the Gryffindors, but others stayed silent. The look on Snape's face was deadly—Tobias saw Hermione's face go pink. The professor was looking right at her.

"I thought I was clear, Miss Granger, when I told you not to help them." He spat. "Five points from Gryffindor, class dismissed."

There were conversations about the previous potion's class when the six walked out. Ron was fussing at Hermione for not sticking up for herself, and Neville was telling Theodore about how glad he was that Trevor wasn't poisoned. But all Tobias could think about was what Zabini said.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right!" Ron seethed. "Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville and Theodore did all by themselves!"

"It's just five points, Weasley." Draco said. "At least Neville's toad didn't die. Plus, Granger didn't even seem that bothered by Snape's attitude."

"You only say that 'cause you like her." Ron grumbled, hissing as he receiving a blow to the back of his neck. " _OW!_ What the bloody hell?!"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Shut it, Weasley. _She_ might hear you."

"She didn't—" Ron looked around, searching for Hermione. "Wait. Where is she?"

The other five boys turned around, also unaware that Hermione was no longer walking with them. They were at the top of the steps, watching as the rest of their classmates went to lunch.

Neville looked worried. "She was right behind us."

"There she is." Theodore pointed down the staircase, where a panting Hermione was catching up to them. Draco watched her carefully, one hand was clutching her bag, and the other seemed to be tucking something down her robes.

"How did you do that?" said Ron, baffled.

"Do what?" The witch breathed out.

"One minute you were right behind us," Theodore said. "The next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione seemed confused, making Draco frown. "Oh—I had to go back for something. Oh no—"

Another moment and her bag had fallen apart. Tobias wasn't surprised when it gave out—it looked as if Hermione had backed a whole bookcase in her bag. There were at least a dozen books scattered across the ground. Draco knelt down, helping her gather her books.

"Granger," He said only for her to hear.

She didn't look up at him. "Hm?"

"Is there any explanation to why you are carrying all these books?"

She shook her head. "You know how many classes I'm taking, Draco. Could you hold these for me?"

Hermione couldn't see the blonde Slytherin's frown growing deeper as she shoved the books in his arms. Draco flipped the books over, reading the covers while she wasn't looking. "Muggle Studies? Arithmancy?"

Theodore saw the covers too. "You don't take those classes today. We only have Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," the witch responded, almost automatically. It was like she didn't even hear what they were saying. She continued to stuff her books back into her bag. She stood up, staring at the five boys as if nothing happened. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving." She didn't say anything else as she marched passed them, heading towards the Great Hall. The boys stood there, just as confused as they were when she arrived.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked the rest.

Draco's frown went even deeper.

* * *

Remus Lupin wasn't the tab bit surprised when Snape burst into his office, slamming this morning's copy of the _Daily Prophet_ on his desk _._ He had already seen it, and he wasn't that happy about it either. Snape was already assuming that Remus was helping Sirius sneak into Hogwarts—the fact that he was spotted by a muggle somewhere outside of Hogsmeade didn't help calm those assumptions.

"He's trying to get inside the castle. Why?" The man seethed. From the tone of his voice, one could assume that Snape had been upset about this for a while. Possibly since the story came out this morning.

"Why do you think?" Lupin retorted, not even looking away from his lesson plans.

"And this is your grand plan?" scoffed Snape. "Helping him get inside the castle, in hopes that Tobias will actually listen to the truth?"

"It's not _my_ plan. I've tried to get him to listen—that Tobias, or in his case, Harry, isn't the same Harry that he knew. Even I can tell that he's been changed."

Snape balled his fist. "Then make him leave. The closer he gets here, the more danger the children are put in. Especially Zabini and LeStrange."

"What do you want me to do?" Remus snapped. " _Dumbledore_ couldn't even convince him not to come."

" _Turn him in._ " Snape said lowly, taking a step forward.

"I—I can't do that."

"Yes you can. He _murdered_ thirteen people. He killed Peter. The closer Black gets near Hogwarts, the more danger he puts Tobias in. And what will it matter if he gets here and the dementors have already sucked the life out of the boy?"

"He didn't do it!" Lupin's eyes were wild, his nails sinking into his desk. "Just give me time to prove it."

Snape leaned even closer. "Your time has run out. Either find a way to make him leave, Lupin, or I will call for the dementors myself."

He then turned away, leaving Lupin alone in his office. As soon as the door closed, his office began to glow a silvery blue color. Lupin held his breath as a silvery dog ran through the nearest window, setting itself down in the chair opposite of him. He recognized Sirius's voice as soon as the message began to play itself.

 _"I wouldn't be asking you for help unless I really needed it, Moony. But I have to get inside Hogwarts. We're all he has, Moony. Please."_

The patronus disappeared as soon as the message finished. Lupin didn't know how to feel. He was glad that Sirius was alive, despite him being spotted, but he was also angry. How selfish could Sirius be? He knew the risks, yet he decided to do what he wanted. Now he was in a jam and needed Remus's help. Even if he wanted to help Sirius, he couldn't do anything without Snape suspecting—the minute he stepped inside Hogwarts, he was dead.

Groaning in frustration, Lupin wiped his desk clean—ignoring the loud clatters and clangs that came from his reaction. He held his head in his hands. What was he going to do?

* * *

As the class walked in for Defense Against the Dark Arts, they noticed that Professor Lupin wasn't there. Despite the absence of their teacher, the students found them a seat, taking out their quills and parchment to prepare for the upcoming lesson. However, when Professor Lupin walked in, he smiled vaguely at the class, flicking his wand and causing everyone's books and parchment to return to their bags.

"Good afternoon," He said calmly, "Today's lesson will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

The students exchanged curious looks, but nonetheless pulled out their wands as instructed.

Theodore pulled his out slowly. "I hope it isn't pixies again."

Tobias didn't respond. His eyes were locked on Professor Lupin. That feeling of familiarity had come back to him. He didn't know why, but it felt like he had seen this man before. But he had no recollection of a man named R. J. Lupin from his childhood. He had met majority of his grandfather's followers, yet Professor Lupin was not among them. So why was he so familiar?

"Right then," Professor Lupin continued. "Now if you all are ready, follow me."

He then strolled out the classroom. The students followed him, puzzled but eager. He led them down a deserted corridor and around a corner. Draco took this as an opportunity to talk to Hermione about her strange behavior earlier.

"Hey," He whispered, not fazed by the way she jumped at his voice. "are you okay?"

The witch sniffed. "I'm fine. Why would you think that?"

"You've been acting strange. You looked like you were about to lose it earlier. Are you sure it's _safe_ for you to be taking all those classes?"

"Oh, Draco." She laughed. "There's nothing dangerous about extra classes."

Draco disregarded her comment. "How are you getting to all of them anyway?"

Hermione turned red at the question, but was unable to answer as the class ran into Peeves the Poltergeist. The ghost was sitting on top of a solider statue, his toes wiggling gleefully as his eyes met Professor Lupin's.

"Loony, loony, Lupin," The ghost sang. "loony, loony, Lupin, loony, loony Lupin…"

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," Professor Lupin responded, a smile on his face. The rest of the class was shocked. Peeves was always respectful to the Hogwarts Professors, and yet here he was making fun of Lupin. And Lupin was just smiling, not seeming offended at all.

"Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

Peeves blew a raspberry. "You're not the boss of me!"

Even as he did this, the professor's smile did not falter. He let out a small sigh and withdrew his wand from his robes. He turned to class.

"This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely. _Waddiwasi!_ "

Professor Lupin barely flicked his wand as the piece of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and into Peeve's left nostril. The class burst in a fit of laughter as Peeves zoomed away, a trail of curse words following behind him.

Theodore smiled. "Awesome."

"Cool, sir!" Dean Thomas said in amazement.

Professor Lupin turned back to the class. "Thank you Theodore and Dean." He tucked his wand back in his robes. "Shall we proceed?"

The Slytherins and Gryffindors followed Professor Lupin once more. The Gryffindor students were whispering excitedly about the previous incident, gazing at the Professor with the amount of respect one would give Dumbledore. The Slytherin students barely acknowledged the professor's "duel" against Peeves—they were hardly paying attention. The exceptions were Draco, Theodore, and Tobias—Tobias, who couldn't keep his eyes off of him. Pansy seemed to be the only one who noticed. Draco was too busy meddling Granger about something and Theodore was at the front of the class, trying to catch up with Professor Lupin. She discreetly made her way to catch up with her dark- haired betrothed. She wasn't surprised that he hadn't noticed her standing beside him.

"Switching sides on me, LeStrange?" She said nonchalantly, knocking the boy out of his thoughts.

"Huh?" He said, before realizing what Pansy meant. She had expected him to laugh, but he didn't. She frowned. "Oh, no. It's just…nevermind."

She raised a brow. "Just what?"

"Does Professor Lupin look _familiar_ to you?"

Pansy looked at the shabby wizard. She didn't recognize him at all. But of course, Tobias recognized him from somewhere—he said the exact thing about the black dog they'd seen on his birthday.

"This isn't about Sirius Black, is it?" She asked curiously.

Tobias swallowed. "Maybe. I don't know. Considering the last time I felt this feeling of familiarity was when I came in contact with that black dog outside Theo's—I was just thinking—"

"That Professor Lupin is the black dog?" It wasn't a wild guess, but it was insane, nonetheless.

"Well, maybe," Her betrothed responded. "But I can't be for sure. Surely, Dumbledore wouldn't hire a murderer for a teacher."

The Slytherin girl snorted. "Have you forgotten Quirrell?"

"He wasn't trying to kill me."

Pansy snorted again, but kept her comment to herself as the class approached the staffroom.

"Inside, please," Professor Lupin instructed, opening the door to let the students in.

Everyone was in awe as they stepped inside—majority of the students hadn't been inside the staffroom. Tobias, Neville, Theodore, Draco, and Ron, however, weren't particularly "blown away" by the sight of it. They had been in the staff room before. Last term, when they found out that Ginny Weasley had been taken inside the Chamber of Secrets.

The staffroom was completely empty except for one person- Professor Snape. His eyes narrowed as Lupin walked in. He said nothing, only gathering his things and making his way towards the exit.

"You don't want to stay, Severus?" Lupin called behind him. "Two teachers are better than one."

Snape stopped, turning around to face the professor once more. He scanned the class, stopping at the sight of Hermione, Neville, and Theodore. "I'd rather not witness this. You see, Lupin, this class contains Neville Longbottom, who can't raise his wand without causing a catastrophe and Theodore Nott, who can't follow directions even if his life depended on it. Not unless Miss Granger is whispering instructions in their ears."

The class and Professor Lupin turned to look at Neville and Theodore Neville had gone pink and Theodore seemed to enjoy the attention. Professor Lupin only smiled, ignoring Snape's harsh words.

"Actually," the Professor said, his optimistic voice never wavering. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Neville swallowed, his face now turning a deep shade of red. Theodore clapped him on the shoulder, hoping to give him some encouragement. Snape snarled, slamming the door as he left the staffroom. The students were now left alone with Professor Lupin.

"Now, then. Everyone follow me." They watched as Professor Lupin walked to the back of the staffroom where there was nothing, but an old wardrobe waiting for them. As the professor got nearer, the wardrobe wobbled a bit, moving from its place against the wall. A few students back away, causing Lupin to chuckle.

"Nothing to worry about." He said calmly. "There's a boggart in there."

Theodore took a few steps forward, becoming excited about today's lesson. "Really? There's a boggart—in there?"

Professor Lupin nodded. He looked at the rest of the class, who didn't seem as excited as Theodore did. Neville looked completely spooked and Seamus Finnegan was watching the doorknob with complete concentration. The rest of the class had resulted into withdrawing their wands, unsure about what would happen next.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," He said. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks—I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."

He stood beside the wardrobe, clasping his hands behind his back. "So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Hermione's hand shot up first.

Lupin nodded towards her. "Yes, Hermione."

"It's a shape-shifter," she said knowingly. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself!" He walked to the other side of the wardrobe, addressing the class once more. "Now, the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

Ron's face had gone pale and Neville let out a sputter of terror. Professor Lupin ignored their reactions, continuing his lesson.

"This means," He continued. "that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Tobias?"

Tobias had his hands tucked in his robes. Other than the fact that Hermione was standing beside him, bobbing up and down on her feet with her arm stretch so far it looked as if it was about to break, he decided to answer Professor Lupin's question—thinking it would be a way to get on the wizard's good side. A step he would take to find out more about him.

"Umm," He began slowly, "because it's too many of us. It wouldn't know what to turn into."

Professor Lupin clapped. "Precisely. It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh- eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

"But when it does turn into something we are afraid of," Neville asked sheepishly. "How do we stop it?"

"It's simple, yet it requires force of mind." The professor laid a finger on his temple. "You see, the thing that really finishes off a boggart is _laughter._ What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing."

"And how do we do that?" Draco asked, his eyebrow raised.

"With this charm. Everyone repeat after me. _Riddikulus!_ "

" _Riddikulus!"_ The class repeated.

Professor Lupin began clapping again. "Good. Very good. However, I am sad to say that was the easy part. The word itself is not enough to stop the boggart. And that is where you come in, Neville."

Neville stepped forward, his body shaking with each step. He whimpered as the wardrobe shook again, but gathered enough strength to keep going. He was now standing beside Professor Lupin, both of them standing in front of the boggart- filled wardrobe.

"Right, Neville," said Professor Lupin. "We will begin with this: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

There was silence, though Tobias could've sworn he saw Neville's lips move.

Professor Lupin smiled. "Sorry, I didn't catch that, Neville."

Neville went red, turning to his friends for help. Draco, Ron, Tobias, and Hermione smiled apologetically. Theodore, however, gave him a thumbs up.

The boy took a deep breath. "Professor Snape. I'm afraid of Professor Snape."

The classroom immediately fell into a fit of laughter. Neville's face went back to normal, looking at Professor Lupin with apologetic eyes. But the professor looked at him with a thoughtful look on his face.

"Professor Snape…hmmmm…Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

Neville nodded. "Uh—yes, but" He said nervously. "I—I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"Of course not, of course not." The professor said, laughing into a smile. "But you misunderstand me. I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Everyone was silent, not sure what Professor Lupin was playing at. Neville seemed confused by the question, but answered. "Well… always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

Lupin nodded. "What about a handbag?"

"A big red one."

"Right then," Professor Lupin then stood behind Neville raising his wand to the wardrobe. "I want you to picture those clothes very clearly, Neville. When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, it will assume the form of Professor Snape once it sees you."

The Gryffindor gulped and starting shaking again.

"You will raise your wand—thus—and cry ' _Riddikulus'_ —and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture- topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

There was more laughter, which quickly ended as the wardrobe began to shake violently. Professor Lupin gripped his wand tighter. Neville looked as if he was about to pass out.

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like you all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you the most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

The room stayed quiet, each person thinking about what scared them the most. Tobias's first thought was the young Tom Riddle—the one he met in the Chamber of Secrets last year. He figured it would be easy to transform his grandfather's younger self into something amusing—but that was until his mind continued to wander. He thought about the great black dog, the Grim. The same black dog that attacked him outside Theo's and the same one that had been following him—as an omen, like Professor Trelawney said in Divination. But as he thought about that black dog, the animal turned into something else—something unhuman. He saw the skeletal hand of something revealing itself through a long black cloak. He heard a shattering breath from an unseen mouth, and then the cold air began to take over his lungs.

Tobias blinked, shivering the thought away. He was unaware that his enemy, Blaise Zabini, had done the same. Tobias looked around, noticing that everyone else had their eyes shut. Ron was concentrating hard, and the Slytherin knew what he was thinking of—spiders. He noticed that Theodore had zoned out for a second, his face pale. Tobias wasn't sure what he was thinking about, but it seemed terrifying. Draco had his eyes opened, seeming bored with the whole lesson. Hermione had her eyes closed tight—any tighter and her eyes may pop out. He wondered what she was afraid of, but nothing came to mind.

"Is everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked. Everyone opened their eyes, nodding in response.

Tobias backed away from the class a bit. He was unsure about how he could make a dementor less scary. He couldn't dress it up in silly clothes like Neville was about to. But it was too late to think of something now, everyone was preparing to begin.

"Neville, we're going to back away," Professor Lupin said. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward…Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot—"

Everyone backed away, leaving Neville alone in front of the wardrobe. Though he seemed afraid, Neville stood up straight, taking a deep breath as he rolled up his sleeves.

"On the count of three Neville," Professor Lupin aimed his wand at the wardrobe, preparing to unleash the boggart. "One—two—three— _now!_ "

From his wand a jet of sparks was released, and the wardrobe was yanked opened. Through the darkness, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes menacing and locked on Neville. Neville backed away, but that didn't stop Snape from walking towards him. The boy whimpered as the professor slipped a hand slowly inside his robes.

"Let him have it, Longbottom!" He heard Theodore shout from behind.

Neville swallowed, raising his wand. " _R—r—riddikulus!"_

There was a loud crack and the once frightening Professor Snape was now dressed in Neville's grandmother's clothing. The class roared in laughter at the boggart, who was now wearing a lace-trimmed dress and a stuffed-vulture hat.

"Dean! Forward!"

Dean Thomas was next and the boggart quickly took its next form. Professor Snape then turned into a severed hand, creeping towards Dean like a limped crab. It raised a finger to touch Dean when—

" _Riddikulus!"_

Another crack and the creepy hand was now a harmless mousetrap.

"Wonderful!" Professor Lupin shouted. "Draco!"

Draco stepped up, a cocky smirk on his face. The boggart began to take its shape, and what it turned into next was unbelievable. Everyone watched as Draco Malfoy's notorious smirk was wiped from his face as a giant clown stood before him. This wasn't your typical clown either—its smile was filled with razor sharp teeth and it's make up seemed to be fading. It had bright green hair and wore a purple suit.

Theodore's eyes went wide. "It's the Joker."

" _Riddikulus!"_ Draco said quickly, causing the boggart to turn into small dog, which yelped at the class.

"Good, Draco, good!" said Professor Lupin. "Ron! You next!"

Ron leaped forward and the boggart changed once more. There was a loud scream and Ron back away as a giant spider, at least six feet tall, took form in the staff room. It was covered in hair and its eyes were bloodshot red, all of them looking at Ron. It began crawling forward, clicking its pincers at the boy. Tobias thought his friend had gotten cold feet, but he was proven wrong.

" _Riddikulus!"_ Ron bellowed, and the spider's legs vanished. It rolled over and over, landing at the feet of Lavender Brown who screamed in fright. She kicked it out of the way, when it landed at Tobias's feet. He raised his wand, preparing to face whatever the boggart was preparing to turn into, but Professor Lupin stopped him.

He stepped in front of Tobias and there was a loud crack. The boggart then took the form of a silvery-white orb, floating peacefully in the air. Another second and it was gone, Professor Lupin had said the charm.

"Come on, Neville, finish him off!" The professor yelled as the boggart was now a small cockroach. Neville jumped forward, ready to face Professor Snape once more.

" _Riddikulus!_ " He shouted and Professor Snape was once again wearing his grandmother's clothes. Neville let out a victory laugh as the boggart exploded, bursting into a million small wisps of smoke. It then disappeared.

"Excellent! Excellent!" Professor Lupin said, applauding the class for their good work. "Well done, everyone…let me see… five points for everyone who tackled the boggart—ten for Neville because he did it twice, and five points to Hermione and Tobias."

The Slytherin frowned. "But I didn't do anything."

The professor shook his head. "You and Hermione answered by questions correctly at the start of the class. Now, homework—everyone kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me. It will be due on Monday."

Class was dismissed and everyone left the staffroom, their excited chatter filling the corridor. Neville and Theodore were going on and on about Neville's boggart. Ron didn't want to talk about his and Draco _really_ didn't want to talk about his. Tobias, however, was a bit disappointed. Professor Lupin had deliberately stopped him from tackling the boggart. Why?

"I wonder why Professor Lupin is afraid of crystal balls." Said Theodore. "He doesn't seem like a guy that gets spooked much."

"Who cares?" said Ron. "That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson ever! I can't remember the last time I had that much fun."

Draco laughed. "That's because it never happened, Weasley."

"He seems like a very good teacher," Hermione said, a hint of approval in her voice. "But I wish I could have had a go with the boggart."

"What would it have been for you?" Ron sniggered.

"Come on Granger," Draco joined in. "Nobody wants to see a piece of homework that only got nine points out of ten."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at them both.

* * *

It had been two years since he stepped inside the house of Black. It seemed longer than that—showing up for emergency meetings. Discussing the betterment of the wizarding community. Trying to find ways for Voldemort to live, so they could keep an eye on Tobias LeStrange. Those times seemed so long ago.

He walked into the kitchen, expecting to find the old wizard, but no one was there. He sat down, immediately wishing he was at The Three Broomsticks.

"I'm here!" He shouted to no one.

There was a whoosh and footsteps. Quirrell looked towards the doorway to find Albus Dumbledore standing in the hallway. His moon- shaped spectacles were hanging off his nose—he looked the exact same. Quirrell turned back to face the rest of the kitchen, his patience already running thin.

"Quirinus," he said lightly. "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough." The man grumbled.

Dumbledore chuckled, walking inside of the room. He took the chair at the other end of the table, positioning himself across from Quirrell. The wizard's appearance sure had changed—as well as his attitude. The once calm and smooth Professor Quirrell was now a drunk and disoriented man. His clothes were shabby and didn't wear his turbans anymore. If anything, it looked like he had just escaped prison.

"I didn't get to properly apologize for the events that happened with the Philosopher's Stone." Said the headmaster.

Quirrell laughed darkly. "Is that why I'm here? So you can apologize? Not to be rude, Professor, but that apology is long overdue."

Dumbledore nodded. "And so it is. But that isn't the reason I called you here." He slipped a hand inside his robes, pulling out the piece of parchment he salvaged from the torn history books. He slid it across the table—right in front of Quirrell. The man looked down at it and frowned—the headmaster expected no less of this reaction. When the wizard looked up from the paper, Dumbledore was staring right at him—his eyes cold and serious.

"What is this?" Quirrell asked, his body tense from the contents on the paper. "A joke? I'm not _dead_."

"Not in this timeline you aren't."

The other man frown dropped, his facial expression becoming more like one of confusion. _Timeline?_

"What?"

"Our worst fears have been brought to life Quirinus," Dumbledore explained, his cold expression never faltering. "Over the summer, Lord Voldemort has taught one of the heirs, Blaise Zabini, about time travel—and he has succeeded."

"Meaning what?" asked Quirrell, his heart dropping as he heard the words coming from the old wizard.

"Meaning that Blaise Zabini succeeded in changing what Lord Voldemort set him to change during his training—and in doing so, he changed the course of history. He created a Time Paradox."

There was silence—all of this was too much to take in. Quirrell didn't know which issue to worry about first—the fact that Lord Voldemort was changing history at his will or that the course of history had been changed. He looked down at the paper once more—this wasn't a joke.

"Have you ever heard of the Grandfather Paradox, Quirinus?" Dumbledore asked.

Quirrell nodded, setting his head in his hands. "Where someone goes back in time, with the intent of murdering their grandfather and in turn preventing the existence of their mother or father and finally their own existence."

"Yes, yes. But let's say in this case, Blaise Zabini reversed that paradox—and instead of preventing the existence of others, he created them."

"As in, some people who are in this timeline—weren't in the original?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Exactly. One of those people being you."

The other man sighed. "I need a drink."

"Quirinus, we must change time back. It isn't safe to stay here."

"But we've been here. For years!" Quirrell spat. "I'm supposed to be dead. But here I am. And you want to change it _back_?"

"You don't understand," said the old wizard. "The Zabini boy is the only one who knows what the original timeline looks like. His memories from there and this timeline will start to clash and the result will be fatal. To him and the rest of us."

The man shook his head. "You're right, I don't understand. We've been here for years—and now all of a sudden it's _dangerous?_ "

Dumbledore was silent, and the other wizard scoffed. He was furious—he was alive and Dumbledore just wanted to kill him off. Seeing this paper and hearing about the whole time travel situation sparked something inside of him. This was his second chance. And he wasn't about to give it up.

"And let me guess," He continued. "You wanted me to go back in change it? You thought I would willingly go back in time and kill myself?"

"It's for the greater good, Quirinus." Dumbledore said.

"And what about the others like me? Whose lives will be erased—never knowing that they had another chance to live?"

He stood up from the table, grabbing his cloak to leave. "I'm not doing it, professor. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Dumbledore watched him leave, the door to 12 Grimmauld Place slamming behind him. He couldn't say he was angry at what happened. He was sure that he wouldn't succeed on the first try—he didn't blame Quirrell for wanting to live a life he wasn't destined to have. But how long would it take to convince him—how much more did they have to endure until enough was enough?

* * *

Professor McGonagall was sitting in her office that night, grading the first set of transfiguration papers she had assigned for the first week of school. She could barely focus on her grading, however, as the thoughts of her son filled her mind. Something didn't feel right during her conversation with Tom—he had seen their son and not tried to enhance his magical talents? It was very unlike him. And that was what unnerved her.

Her thoughts were taken away when she heard someone knocking on her door. She looked at the time. 8:15. She assumed it was Dumbledore or possibly Snape—students didn't visit her office at this hour.

"Come in." She said promptly.

The transfiguration teacher was shocked when Hermione Granger stepped into her office. Her shock quickly turned to worry once she saw that the young girl seemed distraught. She was holding the golden time turner in her hand—her eyes were filled with fear.

"Miss Granger," she said slowly. "Is everything alright? Is the time turner not working to your liking?"

Hermione sat down quickly. "Oh, yes professor, everything is working fine, but something strange is happening."

"Strange like?"

"It's buzzing," the girl explained. "It began on the first day of school, in Hagrid's class, but when I left, it stopped. Later that night I went to the hospital wing and it started again. It did the same today, in Potion's and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"And I assume that when you left, the buzzing stopped?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrow raised. She wasn't how this was happening. She was the only one that had one.

Hermione nodded, pulling out a book from her bag. _The Rules of Time Travel._ "In my research about time travel, devices like time turners can be attracted to certain areas where magic is most abundant—which would explain why it was buzzing outside and inside the castle. I figured that some parts of the castle have more magical power than others, which is why it was buzzing in the Hospital wing and the dungeons and not anyplace else."

"While that may be, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said, trying to gather her thoughts. "The usage of time turners in the castle are exempt from those factors—it was part of the reason I gave it to you."

"I don't understand." Hermione asked curiously. She bit her lip, trying to piece together what was happening to her time turner. "What's causing the buzzing?"

The professor pursued her lips. It was the only conclusion. She hated it—hated the fact that someone else had this ability. She also hated the fact that she didn't know who it was.

"When two time turners are in the same area, they repel each other. Similar to how magnets work— if you put two positive poles together, they will reject each other. It's the same with time turners—they buzz because their magical forces are clashing with each other."

She watched as the bushy- haired witch eyes grew wider. No doubt she thought she was the only one who had the power to go back in time. McGonagall hoped that she realized how dangerous this was as well. Somebody else may have found out that the third year was going back in time.

"I think, Miss Granger, that someone in your friend group has a time turner, and is doing well to keep it a secret—since you haven't already found out yet. Be careful, Hermione. Time travel can be very dangerous if misused."

Hermione swallowed. "If I find who it is—if I find out who else has a time turner. What should I do?"

"Tell me right away." McGonagall said. "Do not engage them. No matter who they are—do not assume they have it for good reasons. Is that understood?"

"Yes, professor."

The transfiguration professor smiled at her. "Good. Is there anything else?"

"No ma'am." Said Hermione. "Thank you." The witch then got up, walking out of Professor McGonagall's office. When she closed the door, she knew she had made her decision. She was going to find out who else had a time turner—it had been swirling in her mind ever since the professor said that it may be one of her friends. Her thoughts went straight to the heirs—but then again it could be Ron or Neville. Whoever it was, she was going to find them. And she was going to find out why they were changing time.

 **Author's Note: And I'm back! Before we move any further, I want to clear all confusions regarding the Time Paradox.**

 **So far the effects have been:**

 **1) Blaise memories are changing**

 **2) Professor Quirrell is no longer dead**

 **3) Voldemort is dying**

 **4) Voldemort never made the original seven horcruxes, just one.**

 **And please keep in mind that Lord Voldemort gave Blaise the time master, and that Dumbledore also has one. Try to keep up! It's about to get messy!**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	47. POA9: The Third Halloween

Off with your head

Dance til' you're dead

Heads will roll, Heads will roll, Heads will roll

On the floor

Heads Will Roll x Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Chapter 47: The Third Halloween

October came and everything seemed to be running smoothly at Hogwarts. Well, almost everything. Defense Against the Dark Arts had become everyone's new favorite class. Each lesson Professor Lupin had a new monster for them to face— one lesson was Red Caps, creatures that gather wherever blood had been shed, and another had been Kappas, monkey like creatures with webbed hands that strangled anyone who wandered into their ponds.

Tobias tried to enjoy Lupin's lessons, but he couldn't help the awkwardness he felt when he and the DADA professor interacted. It was like they knew each other—he was so used to the other professors calling him "Mister LeStrange", he felt like he was talking to a friend or a family member every time Professor Lupin said "Tobias." And even when he said the Slytherin's real name, his voice seemed to choke as he said it. As if Tobias wasn't his real name—or Professor Lupin just wasn't used to saying it.

Potion's was normal—except for the fact that word had gotten around that Neville's boggart had turned into Professor Snape, and that the boy had defeated it by dressing Snape in his grandmother's clothes. One could tell from the past month that Snape had been in a particularly bad mood and this only made it worse. He bullied Neville to no end, staring at the boy as if he was expecting Neville's robes to catch on fire. Any giggle or mention of Professor Lupin resulted in the deduction of house points. Despite what everyone else thought, Draco had a suspicion that Neville's boggart wasn't the only reason Snape seemed on edge lately.

Hermione was greatly regretting her choice of taking divination. They never did anything worth learning in her opinion. They sat in class for hours, trying to decipher mystical shapes and figures—assuming that the figures had some greater meaning. Professor Trelawney couldn't even look at Tobias without tears forming in her eyes. The Gryffindor witch had become annoyed with the class, especially with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. The two girls had taken in the habit of stalking the divination professor's classroom, only to return to the Great Hall with looks of superiority on their face. Clucking their tongues and shaking their heads at students as if they knew something the other's didn't. Hermione found it tiring and quite frankly—irritating.

After the hippogriff incident, Care of Magical Creatures became the most boring class ever, having fallen into the ranks of History of Magic. Theodore was quite disappointed. For the past two years, he and Hagrid would spend hours discussing magical creatures that most wizards would see in magazines or in photographs. When he heard that Hagrid would be teaching the subject, Theo's excitement level shot through the roof. He had high hopes that Hagrid would bring in some of the great creatures they had talked about in his hut, but Hagrid's next few lessons killed his dreams.

"Flobberworms?!" Theodore shouted, appalled at the day's lesson. Hagrid had brought them in, declaring that the third- years would be learning how to take care of them. The class soon found out that flobberworms had to be the most boring creatures on the planet. As catastrophic as the hippogriff incident was, most students decided they would've rather had a replay of that than this.

They spent the hour shoving lettuce down the flobberworms throats, and Ron wanted to shove his own throat with some.

"Why would anyone _bother_ looking after them?" The boy grumbled. "Doesn't seem like they can do much harm if they can't even feed themselves."

As the month continued, Tobias could barely think about the Grim, or Sirius Black, or even Professor Lupin. It was Quidditch season and Marcus Flint was already preparing for the first match. Flint had called a meeting one Thursday night to discuss the new tactics he had been creating over the summer. Tobias still held his position has seeker and Draco was still a chaser. However, it seemed that Zabini had quit the team, because the Slytherin Quidditch team was introduced to their new chaser. A girl named Alex Darcy. She was a raven- haired second year with green eyes—it reminded Tobias of Pansy. Except she seemed to be the complete opposite. She seemed completely spooked sitting in the Potion's dungeon.

"Hey kid," Adrian Pucey whispered. "We don't bite. No need to be afraid."

Draco laughed. "Unless you're on the opposing team, then you should be very afraid."

Alex laughed a bit, her attitude brightening up a bit as the team spoke to her. Tobias, however, was focused on something else—something other than their new chaser.

"Did Zabini say why he quit?" He asked Flint.

Flint shook his head. "Just said he didn't want to play anymore. Don't blame him either—his arm looks terrible."

"Oh I can assure you Flint," Draco snorted. "His arm is perfectly fine."

Flint shrugged—he wasn't the type to care much about people's injuries. Tobias could tell he was pumped about this season. He was seventeen now, meaning that this was his last year at Hogwarts. No doubt he wanted to go out with a bang. They had won the Quidditch House Cup for the past two years—everyone knew that it was his goal to make it a third.

"This is our year guys," He started. "My _last_ year as Quidditch Captain—my last year playing Quidditch with you all. For the past two years, nobody has stood a chance with us—and I plan to keep it that way."

There was a hungry glint in his eyes. Tobias could see a dash of gold glittering in them—a shade of gold similar to the Quidditch House Cup trophy.

"We've got the best damn team in the whole school. We've got chasers that fly faster than the speed of light." Draco smirked at this, fist bumping with Adrian Pucey, who ruffled Alex's hair. "We've got two beaters who hit harder than the giants." There was a grunt of approval from the two beaters- David Mulciber and Jewel Griffin. "And we have you, Tobias,"

The Slytherin smiled a bit at this, thinking about all the times he never failed to catch the snitch in a Quidditch match.

"Tobias," Flint continued. "The _best damn_ seeker this school has ever seen. And then me, who won't stop until that trophy is in my hands. That's how bad I want it—I can taste it."

* * *

"Out of all the places in the castle," Ginny teased. "You brought me to a _bathroom._ "

Blaise shrugged, leaning against one of the bathroom sinks. Ginny could tell he was frustrated about his arm. She was sure it wasn't broken—but knowing Blaise, he would keep on this act as long as he pleased. "Figured you be right at home."

The red- haired girl glared at him, only to smile and laugh once more. That evening, she had gotten an owl from Blaise to meet him here—for what reason she didn't know. But it didn't matter, she was happy to see him. They hadn't spoken in person since that day on the train—the day after the Chamber of Secrets.

"So what did you bring me here for?" She smirked.

"To see you of course."

Ginny tried to hide her blush, and greatly regretted that she didn't because her tan Slytherin friend noticed it—a big smile growing across his face.

"We haven't spoken since the train." He continued, putting his free hand in his robes. "I almost thought you had forgotten about me."

The red- haired witch rolled her eyes. "Like anyone could forget you, Blaise Zabini."

Blaise's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name. It sounded so natural—yet he felt like his heart was about to burst. Despite all the chaos that was happening, he was glad that one of the people he valued most stayed the same. Ginny. She was the one thing he couldn't explain—there was no logic to how he felt about her. There was no explanation to why he admired the Weasley girl as much as he did.

He smiled even bigger. "Manipulative little git."

"What?" Ginny's face turned into one of confusion, but she laughed nonetheless.

"It's what you called me, when we first met—officially."

"I don't remember that."

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "You and many more."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The girl frowned, he arms folding across her chest.

"Nothing, nothing," Blaise said quickly, though he was a little annoyed that Ginny didn't remember that detail from when they first met. It was a memory that he couldn't get out of his head. But he pushed it aside, reaching into his robes to confront Ginny with the real reason he had brought her here.

"I want to show you something," He said, grabbing the time master under his robes. "Close your eyes."

He watched as Ginny closed her eyes—he was surprised at how easily she did it. Most people would hesitate when Blaise Zabini asked them to do anything. Especially something that required them to not see what he was doing. He took a few steps, watching her breathe calmly—and it was from this that he knew she trusted him.

Blaise took the time turner out of his robes and unlatched the chain from his neck. "Hold your hands out." He said softly, and Ginny did as she was told. She felt something clatter and then something cold and metallic fall into her hands. She opened her eyes, staring down at something that looked like a golden globe.

She seemed confused, but at the same time her breath hitched. "You got me a necklace?"

"This isn't a necklace." The boy chuckled, his eyes meeting hers. "It's a time master."

"And that is?"

Blaise smiled. "It's something I used over the summer during my training. It can take me to any point in time I want. The past and the future."

Ginny stiffened at the word "training." Last year, she found out that Blaise was one of the four heirs of Lord Voldemort. The Lord Voldemort who had possessed her and made her open the Chamber of Secrets, which almost resulted in the death of many students and even herself. She had no doubt that Voldemort had given him this.

"And why are you showing me?" She felt some-what sick. He was smiling, yet all she could think about was You-Know-Who and the fact that she almost died.

"Because I wanted you to see it before I went back."

"Went back where?"

Blaise's smiled grew even bigger. "To the Chamber. I'm going to travel back in time and save you from Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets."

This time it was Ginny's turn to laugh. Blaise frowned, not understanding what was so funny. He had gone down to the Chamber of Secrets to save her, but instead he ended up stuck with Malfoy, Nott, Weasley, and Lockhart. It had been hours before LeStrange arrived with Ginny—and even then she looked shaken up. Blaise knew if he was there he would've done it faster—he wouldn't have hesitated at the sight of Tom Riddle. And now that he had the ability to do it, it seemed all a joke to her.

"Care to share what's funny, Ginerva?" He said, his tone serious.

"You," She said, still laughing.

"I don't find the fact that I now have the ability to save you funny."

Ginny stopped her laughter, catching herself to speak clearly. "It's funny because you already saved me."

"I-I did?" Blaise frowned. "I saved you from the Chamber of Secrets? But that's impossible."

"No, it isn't. You saved me from Tom Riddle last term—that's how we became friends, remember?"

Blaise frowned even deeper. He didn't remember—he wasn't there in the Chamber when Ginny was saved, he was in Snape's office. He became friends with Ginny on the train, after the incident in the Great Hall. The incident that no one seemed to remember. And now this. How could he have saved his crush, and he didn't even remember?

"Maybe this will help you remember," Ginny said, knocking him out of his thoughts. His heart dropped as she stepped forward, standing on her toes to peck a kiss on his check. He felt his face go warm at the touch of her lips, completely forgetting what he was thinking about.

He watched as she came back down, returning to her normal height. "Now do you remember?"

Blaise swallowed. "Yes," he lied, forcing out a laugh. "Of course, how could I forget?"

"Good. Now you can put this away." She dropped the time master back into Blaise's hands, watching it disappear as he closed his fist. She walked over to pick up her bag. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," Blaise said, his mind drifting off again. He barely heard the bathroom door close as she left. Once again, nothing was making sense.

" _Ahhhh!"_ He screamed, bracing himself against one of the stall doors. He felt like his skull was splitting, like someone was trying to rip his body in half. He tried to focus on his reflection in the mirror, but the pain was too strong. He took a step forward, trying to leave the bathroom, find help, but it was too late. He was now falling to the floor, his surroundings had gone black.

 _Blaise opened his eyes. He was lying on something cold and wet. He sat up quickly realizing that he was lying in a pool of blood—the dead basilisk lying beside him. He remained quiet as he observed his surroundings. He was a few feet away from Ginny, who was a few feet away from four figures. Four figures who he immediately recognized._

 _"On second thought, I've become bored of this. Severus, why don't you do the honors? Why don't you finish what you started?"_

 _Blaise recognized that voice as Tom Riddle's, or Lord Voldemort. He also noticed Professor Snape standing beside him. Their backs were turned to Blaise, who remained silent as he watched the scene. He moved forward a little, making his way towards Ginny. He could vaguely see LeStrange and Longbottom, who were kneeling on the ground. They both looked as bruised as Blaise felt._

 _"The bird may heal you, Tobias, but this is your end. Severus, if you will."_

 _"No!" He heard Longbottom scream, whipping his wand out to stop Snape. However, Snape was quicker, casting a disarming spell. Blaise watched as the boy's wand flew across the room._

 _The tan Slytherin continued to crawl towards Ginny while Tom Riddle and Snape were occupied. He moved slowly and swiftly—his eyes focused on his target. She was barely breathing, but that was all Blaise needed to see to know she was alive. He was going to get her out of here, whether LeStrange and Longbottom made it out or not._

 _"Mister Longbottom," He heard Snape say. "Do you have anything to say to your friend before I kill him? Or anything you would like to say before you die as well?"_

 _He knew he didn't have enough time. Blaise quickly closed the distance between him and the red- haired girl. He stood up slowly, preparing himself to lift up the girl and make a run for it. Even if he didn't make it out, Ginny would be safe. He found his opportunity when he heard Tom Riddle scream in agony. He turned around to see the memory of Tom Riddle coming apart. He quickly turned to look at Longbottom, who was jamming a basilisk fang into the cover of black leather diary._

 _Blaise lifted up Ginny and made his way out, despite the commotion happening behind him. When he returned to the sewage passageway, he stopped to look at Ginny. Kneeling, he let out a sigh of relief when he noticed the color was returning to her skin. She fidgeted a bit before opening her eyes—her hazel eyes meeting Blaise's brown ones. It was like staring into a mirror, yet this time he couldn't look away._

 _She didn't say anything, only looking around. She then gasped, tears forming in her eyes._

 _"The—the diary." She said, her voice trembling. "What have I done? I—I tried to tell them, but—but—"_

 _"It's alright." Blaise said softly. "He's gone now. You're safe."_

 _She blinked, her eyes widening as she recognized her savior. "You're Blaise Zabini."_

 _The boy nodded._

 _"Why did you come save me?"_

 _Blaise's mind went blank at this question. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to tell her that he had come to save her because he had a crush on the Weasley girl. But it was the truth. However, he chose against it—sticking to the same answer he had told LeStrange and the rest._

 _"Couldn't let the school close." He said, not even believing his own lie. The red- haired witch didn't seem to buy it either. Her eyes narrowed at him._

 _"You don't honestly think I'm that thick, do you?"_

 _The tan Slytherin smirked. "Well, you did let a diary trick you into opening the Chamber of Secrets."_

 _At first Blaise regretted his comment, but that was before he heard the girl laugh a little at his comment. He was caught off guard as the girl sat up, her eyes meeting his once more. His heart jumped when he felt her lips against his cheek. There was a long silence. Blaise wasn't sure why she had kissed him, and from the look on Ginny's face—she wasn't sure either._

 _Their moment was ruined by LeStrange, who came into the sewer next, followed by Professor Snape and Longbottom._

 _"Ginny, are you alright?" He asked, his hand clasped around his injured arm._

 _The girl nodded, but tears began to fall down her face as she looked at Professor Snape. "Don't expel me, please! I've always looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B—Bill came and n—now I have to leave and w-what'll mom and dad say?"_

 _The four children looked a Professor Snape, awaiting his response. Blaise was relieved when Snape sighed, his gaze leaving the crying girl._

 _"Your mother and father will be glad to see that you're alive, Miss Weasley. As we all are."_

 _Blaise looked back at her, a small smile forming across his lips. "Let's get out of here."_

 _Ginny sniffed as she got up. She walked with LeStrange and Longbottom, who were holding her up. She was still weak from what had happened. Blaise walked behind them, beside Professor Snape who had said nothing else along the way. As they walked, the Slytherin could feel a sharp pain rising in his head. It felt like a headache but stronger. He tried to fight it, shutting his eyes to block out the pain, but it was no use._

 _He felt everything going black once more. His last memory being those hazel eyes._

Blaise gasped loudly as he woke up. It had happened again—another memory that he didn't remember. He never saved Ginny, but yet this vision, or whatever it was, felt so real. He sat up, realizing he was still in the bathroom—he wasn't sure what time it was. The pain in his head had subsided, but he was now covered in sweat and breathing heavily. He quickly turned around as he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Mister Zabini," Professor Dumbledore said, eyeing him cautiously. "are you alright?"

Blaise stood up, dusting himself off. "Yes, sir." He tried to resume his usual prep boy swagger. "I'm fine."

Dumbledore eyed him for a moment, before moving out of the doorway. "Then, I guess my assistance is not needed. You should be returning back to your common room—it's passed curfew."

"Yes sir, I was about to head there now." Blaise didn't care if Dumbledore knew he was lying—he needed to get out of here now. He needed to find out what was happening to him.

The old headmaster nodded, moving out of the way to let the tan Slytherin through. He watched as Blaise Zabini walked down the corridor—walking with a panicked pace. He knew that Zabini's memories were clashing—but for how long would the boy try to hide it? When would he ask for help?

"Mister Zabini." He called out. Blaise turned around, facing the headmaster once more.

"Sir?"

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

He didn't expect the boy to say anything back. Zabini simply dismissed him with a "Thank you, sir" and kept walking towards the Slytherin dungeons. Dumbledore sighed, tucking his hands inside his robes and beginning in the opposite direction towards his office.

* * *

Tobias walked in the Great Hall the next morning to find the whole chamber in a storm of excitement. There wasn't a group of students who didn't have a smile on their face. As the Slytherin approached the end of the Gryffindor table, he soon found out why everyone was in a great mood this early.

"What's going on?" He said as he sat down beside Hermione.

The answer to his question came quickly as Theodore slammed a piece of parchment down on the table. Tobias felt all his potential joy fade away as he read it.

"First Hogsmeade weekend." Theodore said excitedly. "On _Halloween_!"

Ron nodded. "Do you know how much candy HoneyDukes will have? I can already taste it."

Tobias felt even worse. He slid the paper away, grabbing a piece of toast to distract himself from the fact that he wouldn't be going to Hogsmeade. Hermione seemed to have noticed his disinterest.

"Tobias, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time." She said softly, but also glaring at Ron and Theodore for not being considerate enough to not brag in front of Tobias.

"Yeah," Draco added in. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already. Won't be long until they spot him again."

Theodore scoffed, grabbing a slice of bacon. "Come on. Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade. Just ask Snape if you can go, Tobias."

"The next one might not be for ages." Ron agreed. "You can't be the only third year left behind. Go on and ask Snape."

" _No!"_ Hermione objected. "Tobias is supposed to stay _inside the school_."

Neville scratched the back of neck. "I don't know, Hermione. I mean—it's Hogsmeade. We've been waiting for this trip since we got here. What's the worst that can happen?"

Theo clapped his hands dramatically. "Look. Even Longbottom agrees!"

"And what if he goes and Black is there?" Draco asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "Then what?"

Ron waved a dismissive hand. "Black would be a bloody idiot if he stepped into Hogsmeade to get Tobias with all of us there. He can't take all six of us." He then pointed at the blonde Slytherin and Tobias. "Especially not you two."

Hermione huffed. "I just think—"

"I'll do it." Tobias interrupted her, causing Hermione's mouth to fall open. "I'll ask Snape if I can go."

Theodore and Ron high-fived each other while Hermione still looked as if she wanted to argue against Tobias's decision. The argument never came as Crookshanks hopped into her lap, a large spider dangling from its mouth.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" She cooed. As the cat began to eat the spider, Ron's face turned into one of disgust. Theodore quickly tucked away Francis, his pet beetle, away in his robes.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" Ron scowled. It was obvious that the red- haired Gryffindor was not fond of Hermione's new pet.

Draco frowned. "Honestly Granger, that isn't the first thing I want to see in the morning."

Hermione ignored them both, gently petting Crookshanks as he feasted on the spider. The cat's big yellow eyes were locked on Draco's and then slowly made their way towards Ron, who turned an irritable red.

"Just keep him over there, alright? I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

At the words "Scabbers" and "bag," Crookshanks quickly leaped out of Hermione's lap, positioning himself on the table. Theodore frowned deeply when he saw that the cats paws where deep in a pile of bacon and eggs.

"Granger." Draco said warningly, but it was too late. Crookshanks had seized Ron's bag, sinking its claws through the fabric and tearing at it like a rabid animal. Neville tried to pull Crookshanks off, but the cat hissed furiously, causing Neville to slide away from the scene.

"GET OFF YOU STUPID ANIMAL!" Ron roared, tugging the bag out of the cat's grip, but it was no use.

The whole Great Hall had gone silent, watching the scene play itself out. Hermione had stood up, followed by Draco, who was reaching in his robes for his wand. Hermione looked worried, trying to stop Ron from hurting her cat.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" she squealed. However, Ron wasn't listening. He kept fighting with Crookshanks until his bag opened and Scabbers came scurrying out. It was at that moment that Crookshanks let go of Ron's bag and began chasing after Scabbers.

"SOMEBODY CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled, hopping from his seat at the table. Theodore and Neville ran after him. Tobias and Draco went for Crookshanks, both using their Quidditch earned agilities to catch the cat. Draco dived for Crookshanks first, but missed, landing on the hard Great Hall floor. Tobias tried next, but barely prevented himself from running blindly into the Hufflepuff table. Crookshanks made his way through the many pairs of legs sitting at the House tables, making it impossible for the Slytherin to catch him.

The six met up at the end of the Slytherin table, where Crookshanks was making furious swipes at a crack in the wall. Hermione and Ron rushed forward; Hermione grabbing Crookshanks; Ron crouching down beside the crack in the wall, sticking his hand in the hole to find Scabbers. After several minutes, and a few swear words from Ron, the boy was able to pull Scabbers out of the crack by the tail. He then stood up, his eyes glowering at the bushy- haired witch.

"Look at him!" He said loudly, his tone furious. "He's already skin and bones! Your cat's making it worse! Keep that bloody thing away from him!"

Hermione's face was red, and the other boys could tell she was angry as well. "Crookshanks doesn't understand its wrong, Ron! All cats chase rats! It's natural!"

"There's nothing natural about that thing!" Ron argued back, shoving a shivering Scabbers back in his robes pocket. "There's something funny about that animal! It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

"Should we do something about them?" Neville whispered to the others. "Everyone's staring."

Tobias turned around, and it was true. The Great Hall's attention had been turned to the Slytherin table—all eyes on Ron and Hermione, who hadn't even noticed the crowd they had attracted.

"Oh, what rubbish," Hermione scoffed. "Crookshanks didn't _hear_ you, Ronald, he could _smell_ Scabbers! How else d'you think—"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers! And Scabbers was here first, _and_ he's ill!"

"That has nothing to do with Crookshanks! If you would just—"

Draco growled. "I've had enough of this." The blonde Slytherin stepped forward, grabbing Hermione by the arm and dragging her out of the Great Hall. She barely had time to argue as Draco rushed her out. The boys watched them leave, Ron still fuming with anger.

"Do we need to drag you out as well?" Theodore asked.

"Piss off, Theo."

* * *

Professor Dumbledore was gazing out the window of his office, his time master clutched in his fist. The object had been on his mind since he found Blaise Zabini passed out in the girls' lavatory. The fact that the boy was found in a bathroom didn't spark suspicion in the headmaster's mind—it was the fact of _whose_ bathroom it was. It was the same bathroom that held the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets—what was the boy doing in there?

As Dumbledore was walking back to his office, his mind was revolving around the fate of the Slytherin boy. From the state the headmaster found him in, Dumbledore assumed that Zabini had just endured a traumatic incident. A traumatic incident that Dumbledore could easily explain as the clashing of his memories. Had it been something simple, the boy would have went to Madam Pomfrey for treatment—but Dumbledore knew he wasn't going there. He even checked the hospital wing to be sure. It was happening.

"He said _no?!"_ a voice said furiously. Dumbledore turned around slowly, tucking the time master into his robes. His sullen expression did not falter as he came face to face with Professor Snape. The professor looked as furious as he sounded.

The headmaster nodded. "He believes he's been given a second chance to live. I don't blame him for denying our request."

Snape's lips tightened. " _A second chance?!_ He's wasted the last two years getting drunk in Hogsmeade! He has done _nothing_ to help us—"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore interrupted him. "what would you have done? What would you have done had I come to you and told you that this world we were living in wasn't real and that in the world that we belong to, you are dead?"

Snape opened his mouth but closed it. As Dumbledore expected, the man had no answer. But the old wizard knew how he was feeling deep down. Of course, as a teacher, the easy choice would be to go back in time and change things, saving the life of a student. But as a person, just a plain old person, it wouldn't be that easy. To throw away everything, for the life of one person? It was unrealistic.

"It is not an easy choice, to give up everything for one person—that is something you must understand, Severus. Quirrell was the perfect choice—if he had been the one to change the timeline, his presence wouldn't have affected the ripple effect of time, seeing as he was already dead. But Quirrell has made his decision, and we must respect it."

Snape snorted, obviously not agreeing with Dumbledore's statement. "Why should we respect his decision when he didn't respect yours? You told him, told all of us, not to tell Tobias the truth."

"We were dealing with a different man in those times." The headmaster said, disappointedly. "You know as well I as do why he disobeyed me. He knew the risks and he was willing to give it all up for Tobias. That isn't the man we are dealing with today. It was foolish of me to think he was."

"So we're just going to let the Zabini boy die? We're just going to stay here even though we know everything is just going to crash and burn?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Someone will eventually have to go back in change time, but it must be when he is ready to change it back."

"He?" Snape frowned. "You're referring to Zabini?"

"Yes. Only he knows what time period Voldemort told him to travel to."

"Then let's ask him! Let us finish this before it gets any worse!"

"It's not that simple, Severus." Said the old professor. "It's starting—his memories are clashing. I don't know how long it has been going on, but I caught him last night."

Across the room, Snape's expression had become stone-like. "How did you know?"

"I found him unconscious in the bathroom that holds the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, the time master from Voldemort lying beside him."

"You think he was trying to change what happened?"

"I don't see why he would." Dumbledore's eyes then sparkled with a hint of realization. "Unless something happened in the original timeline, something that happened when he experienced the Chamber of Secrets. That must be what he wanted to change."

"So he went into the bathroom…" the other man said slowly.

"To create the setting, I assume. Once he went back in time, he would be in the exact place he was standing in before he went back. However, something must've triggered his memory—or in this instance, this timeline's memory, causing him to pass out in the bathroom."

"Do you think it was the bathroom that triggered it?"

"It's likely. But anything could trigger the memories—objects, people, words or phrases." Dumbledore sat down in his desk chair. "This is why we cannot confront him, Severus. He is already afraid—we don't want to make it worse. We must wait until he comes to us, until he wants our help."

The other man frowned. "And what if he goes to the wrong people for help?"

"Then we must brace ourselves. Voldemort has already changed the timeline once—I have no doubts that he may try to change it again."

* * *

The rest of the day was a silent one for the six. Ron was still pissed at Hermione from the incident in the Great Hall. She tried to talk to him and ease the tension, but Ron was being his usual stubborn self. He wouldn't even look at her.

Word had gotten around from a few Gryffindor first years that Scabbers was hiding under Ron's bed. This news made Hermione feel even worse. Draco, Neville, Tobias, and Theodore tried to hush the news down, but it was already too late. The talk of the day was Hermione and Ron's argument. As the six walked down the corridor to their next class, they could hear students chatting nearby, claiming the status as "Team Scabbers" or "Team Crookshanks."

"Crookshanks is a _cat!"_ They heard a second year Ravenclaw girl argue. "Cats chase rats!"

A Huffleboy boy scoffed. "But Crookshanks isn't an ordinary cat. It heard Ron say Scabbers was in his bag!"

"Great." Draco grumbled. "Look what you two have started."

The talk of cats and rats died as the six friends approached the dungeons for Potions. Hermione had expected the group of third years to be talking about the Great Hall incident, but instead their seemed to be no loud talking going on. Instead there were students whispering sadly and the sound of crying coming from the front of the line.

Hermione led the way as they found Lavender Brown crying in the arms of Parvati Patil. Dean Thomas was rubbing her back while listening to something Parvati was telling him in his ear. The pair looked very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" Hermione asked hesitantly, not wanting to upset the group even more.

Her goal failed as Theodore stood beside her, his hands falling into his robes as he examined the scene. "Yeah, you guys look like somebody just died."

Parvati snapped her head at the Slytherin, her eyes narrowing as Lavender cried even harder. She then turned her attention to Hermione, who was trying to hide her urge of wanting to smack Theo in the back of his head.

"She got a letter this morning," the girl whispered. "It's her rabbit Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," Hermione said softly. "I'm sorry, Lavender."

Lavender released herself from Parvati's hold, wiping her eyes. "I should have known." The girl said tragically. "You all do know what day it is, don't you?"

"October sixteenth." Neville said.

"Right!" Lavender said. "The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!'"

"Not this crap." Draco muttered to Tobias.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Lavender—"

"She was right!" The girl continued to yell. "She was right!"

The whole class was now surrounding Lavender and Hermione, all their heads nodding in agreement. Draco rolled his eyes, and Hermione was looking at Lavender with an expression close to pity.

"You—you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?" she asked, not believing that the rabbit's death had anything to do with Professor Trelawney.

Lavender blinked. "Well, not necessarily by a _fox,_ but I was _obviously_ dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

There were more murmurs of agreement, but Hermione still wasn't convinced. "Oh. Was Binky an _old_ rabbit?"

"Leave it alone, Granger." Draco called out, but the bushy- haired witch ignored him.

"N-no!" Lavender sobbed. "He was just a baby!"

"But then, why would you dread him drying?" Hermione had caught the attention of the class now. Parvati didn't seem pleased about the witch questioning her friend's dead rabbit, her eyes narrowed at Hermione.

"Well, look at it logically—"

"Here we go." Theodore said.

"I mean," Hermione continued. "Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today and she _can't_ have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock."

Draco stepped forward, watching as Lavender was once again sobbing in Parvati's arms. The murmurs between the students started once more, several of their glares being aimed at Hermione. They quickly turned away as Draco growled at them, grabbing the Gryffindor witch by the arm.

"I couldn't agree more, Granger," Draco said, eyeing Dean Thomas, who was rubbing Lavender's back. The boy seemed ready to pounce on Draco, but the blonde Slytherin swiftly pulled out his wand, daring the Gryffindor to try. "But now we need to go."

The blonde Slytherin dragged her away, leaving the other four with a sobbing Lavender. Theodore, Neville, and Tobias didn't know what to say. But Ron, however, seemed to be fuming once more from Hermione's behavior. He took a step towards the other three Gryffindors.

"Don't mind, Hermione, Lavender." He said spitefully. "She doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."

"He's lucky Hermione didn't hear that." Theodore whispered to Tobias and Neville. The two boys nodded in agreement. They had heard enough arguments for the day.

Tobias, along with the rest of the class, entered the Potion's dungeon, taking their seats at their usual tables. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, and the Slytherin boy felt his insides tightened as he remembered what he had agreed to this morning. He was supposed to be asking Snape if he could go to Hogsmeade. Tobias hadn't even thought of it until now—he had exactly no idea how he was going to persuade the professor to let him go.

"Before you get settled," Snape announced to the class. "Please pull out your Hogsmeade permission forms. It is fine if you do not have them today, but you must have them signed and turned in before Halloween."

Neville quickly raised his hand, but the professor ignored him.

"Professor McGonagall has already received yours from your grandmother, Mister Longbottom. For obvious reasons, she seemed it was safer."

The students began to line up in front of Snape's desk. Tobias stood at the end, quickly trying to come up with a way to get to Hogsmeade. As the line dwindled down, the boy became nervous—he hadn't thought of anything to say. The moment of truth came too soon as the black- haired Slytherin was now standing in front of Professor Snape.

"Mister LeStrange," Snape said slowly. "Is there something wrong?"

Tobias took a deep breath. "My grandfather forgot to sign my form—" He felt his body tense as Snape stared at him. "And since you're my next legal guardian—I was wondering—"

"No."

Tobias blinked—he hadn't even finished his question. "No?"

"Mister LeStrange, I have known you for all thirteen years of your life. I know why you are up here, and the answer is no. I'm sorry, but you know why your grandfather didn't sign your form, and it would be irresponsible of me to go against his decision."

"But Sirius Black hasn't been seen for _weeks._ Professor, if—"

"No." Snape said it again, his face turning into one of pity. He sighed. "That's my final word. Now please take your seat, the lesson is about to start."

Tobias turned around, walking slowly back to his seat. He felt like Snape had just killed him. Right now, he wished he was dead. In a few days, everyone would be going to Hogsmeade—everyone except him. And if Snape wasn't going to sign his form, there was no way any of the other teachers would. He sat down at his table, his face completely lifeless. No one said anything. Well, everyone except Theo.

"These are one of the very few times I wish Lockhart was here." Theodore said. "He would've signed it. Hell, he probably would've asked _you_ to let him sign it."

* * *

Remus sat down on the bed of the Shrieking Shack, claiming it as his quarters for the night. The teachers' quarters that Dumbledore had given him were nice—exquisite even. They were rooms one might see in a magazine—what supermodels slept in in Paris. But despite how luxurious they were, nothing compared to a night's sleep in the old shack.

He sighed deeply, running a rough hand through his sandy-brown hair. So much was running through his head he didn't know where to begin. The first issue was Snape, who was on him like a hawk eyeing his prey. Everywhere Remus went, there was some sign that Snape was watching. Waiting. Waiting for the day when Remus would irresponsibly allow Sirius inside the Hogwarts castle—having no regard for the students or his own job. He sighed again, closing his eyes as he travelled to his next issue. Sirius.

The ex-con hadn't contacted him since the boggart lesson. Remus was worried—his response to Sirius's patronus was not a happy one, but it was necessary. He had told Sirius to get out of the country, leave Harry alone, and go start a new life. He didn't regret it. He needed to realize that the situation was out of his hands now— _way_ out of his hands. He was thirteen years late. Sirius needed to move on. Just like Remus had. Or had he? This question led to his third issue.

Tobias LeStrange.

The boy was so much like James, Remus felt as if he was teaching his late bestfriend. But as much as he was like James, he was also like Voldemort—or Tom Riddle. He was observant—too observant. He was sneaky, sly—he had a gaze that felt like he was seeing through you, instead of at you. Remus could hardly believe at times that this was his godson. But it was, and it was so _weird._ He couldn't even say the name "Tobias." It sounded surreal coming out of his mouth, but he fought against it—well he tried. Had he really moved on from the fact that this wasn't Harry Potter anymore? Or was he just trying to cope? That question led to his fourth issue. The alternate timeline.

Ever since Dumbledore had told them the truth, many questions rose in Remus's head. One of them being: Was Harry Potter still Harry Potter? What if in the original timeline, Harry was never kidnapped by Voldemort? What if James and Lily were still alive? It was questions like these that the man knew he would never find the answer to. The only relic from the original timeline that Dumbledore had salvaged was the paper claiming Quirrell's death. There was no way to know what everything else was like. He had the urge to ask the Zabini boy—but quickly voted against it. The Slytherin boy wasn't even aware he was living in an alternate timeline. He was just aware that he changed it. But even though Remus didn't have the answers to his questions, he still wanted to change time back. If there was a chance that Harry ended up with the right people, he would take it.

 _Creeeeeeeaaaakkkk._

Remus quickly stood up, pulling his wand out of his robes. He stayed in his spot by the bed, his wand aimed towards the door. No one else knew about their hiding place in the Shrieking Shack. The entrance was cut off in Hogsmeade. Whoever it was, the wizard didn't care. This would be their last time stepping inside.

His adrenaline rose as he caught sight of his canine friend, strolling into the room as if he wasn't on the run from the dementors. Remus shot forward, pining the dog to the ground. It yelped in pain before transforming back into the black-haired ex-con. Sirius Black.

"Well, you look happy to see me." He said, groaning in pain as Remus drove a knee into his side stomach.

"What part of 'don't come to Hogwarts'," Remus whispered furiously. "Did you not understand?"

"Oh, I understood, Moony. But then I realized what month it was."

"Meaning?"

Sirius jerked forward, head-butting with Remus. The sandy-haired man fell backwards, growling as he raised a hand to his forehead. However, Sirius seemed to be fine—now that he was free from Remus's grasp.

"It's October. Meaning your brain is all loony. You're about to transform so your mind is all fuzzy. It's fine, however, I know you didn't mean it."

Remus looked baffled. He felt as if someone had just drugged him. Maybe he wasn't hearing Sirius correctly—maybe Sirius wasn't even here. But as he sat there, staring at the other wizard—he knew this was real. And that made his blood boil even worse.

"Sirius you need to go. Now."

Sirius frowned. "No."

"Padfoot, this isn't up for debate. It's not safe for you to be here. You need to leave."

"And do what?!" The other man spat. "Move on? Start anew? Do what you told me, Remus? Is that what you're doing?" He waved a hand around the Shrieking Shack. "You get to stay at Hogwarts, and see Harry every day. Why should I forget him, when you get to stay? How could you be so selfish?"

" _Selfish?"_ Remus glared at him, his eyes wolfish and deadly. "I told you _not_ to come here, Sirius. Not because I wanted Harry all to myself or I wanted to keep my _job_ —it's because I'm your _friend_! The minute you step foot in that castle, Snape will call for the dementors. And this time you won't be shipped back to Azkaban—you'll be dead! I've lost enough friends, Padfoot. You keeping thinking that this is a game but it isn't. We're not kids anymore, Sirius! Our actions have consequences!"

"Don't you think I know that?" said Sirius. His voice was hard and cold. "I was the one who traded the job as Secret Keeper with Peter. _I_ made that decision. And now look where we are—James and Lily are dead. Harry is being raised by Voldemort. THIS IS MY FAULT!" His voice grew louder, and Remus couldn't help but notice the tears forming in his eyes.

" _I_ made the decision to go after Peter when I should have been there for Harry. I should've went and got him, Moony. All you did was run away, but I got locked in Azkaban. I missed twelve years of my godson's life while you were getting updates from Snape. This is my mistake, Moony. Why won't you let me fix it?"

Remus was silent. He didn't have an answer for Sirius. By now, the tears were rolling down Sirius's face and the other man found himself crying, too. Truth be told, he felt exactly how Sirius felt. He assumed it was all over, once he received the news that James and Lily were dead and that Voldemort had taken Harry. Dumbledore had told them to stay put, but he knew he didn't have to listen. Harry was _his_ godson, not Dumbledore's. Remus was all Harry had left—Peter was now a traitor and Sirius was halfway to Azkaban. He should have been there for Harry.

"Sirius…now- isn't the time." Remus could barely stomach the words he was saying. "I want Harry to know the truth as much as you do, but we can't. He's still too young, and most importantly, you are a wanted man."

"For a murder I didn't commit." Sirius said quietly. The room was silent once again. Remus didn't know what to say. He just stood up and returned to his spot on the bed, staring at the wall. Sirius soon joined him. The next words that came out of his mouth lit a fire in Remus chest.

"What if I can prove that Peter isn't dead?" He said.

The other man sighed. "Padfoot…"

"It sounds crazy I know, but like you said, I'm a wanted man. If I can prove that Peter isn't dead, I'll be free. And if I'm free, I can walk inside Hogwarts—and I can see Harry, as a free man."

"And then what?"'

Sirius ran a hand through his black hair. "Then I'll do what you told me to do. I'll move on."

Remus turned to look at him, but Sirius's eyes didn't leave the chipped wall in front of them. Remus didn't say anything, only nodding. He turned back to stare at the wall, and the two men sat in silence for the rest of the night.

* * *

Halloween morning came and the Great Hall was buzzing about the trip to Hogsmeade. Tobias walked a bit slower than the rest, not really in such a rush to get to breakfast. This was the worse he'd felt all month, but he tried his best not to show it. He tried to engage in the discussion his friends were having, but after a while he stopped talking. He couldn't bring himself to speak about a place he wasn't allowed to go to.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Hogsmeade. I promise. Right, Draco?" Hermione said, her voice sounding very guilty-like.

"Or he could give us the money to go buy him some. _Ouchhhh!_ " Draco growled, Hermione had elbowed him in the ribs. "I mean, yes, of course, why wouldn't we?"

"Yeah," Ron exclaimed, agreeing with Hermione. "We'll bring you loads of it." Tobias gave him a small smile, especially since Ron had finally gotten over his tantrum with Hermione. The two weren't tearing off each other's heads anymore, and the "Team Scabbers" and "Team Crookshanks" debacle had passed.

"And me, George, and Fred will bring you some pranking materials from Zonko's." Theo added in.

Neville nodded. "And I'll bring you a photograph of the Shrieking Shack." The boy then pulled out a small camera from his robes. It was nothing like the one Colin Creevy had last year, but it seemed to do the same thing. The group was proven right when Neville accidently pushed a button on the camera, a blinding flash hitting the six at once.

Theodore covered his eyes. "I think I've gone blind. Again."

Tobias pushed his plate away. The talk about Hogsmeade had made him lose his appetite. "Don't worry about me. I'll just see you all at the feast."

Tobias didn't bother staying for the rest of breakfast. He didn't want to be there when all the students who had permission to go to Hogsmeade were summoned to the front of the castle. Instead, he made his way to the Slytherin common room, hoping to find it empty.

As he opened the door, he ran into Slytherin's new chaser, Alex Darcy. She and a few of her friends were quickly trying to put on their scarves and mittens as they walked towards the exit. The girl shrieked as she almost bumped into the Slytherin third year. The rest of her friends blushed horribly, hiding their girlish giggles under their hands.

"Oh, sorry, Alex." Tobias said. He then frowned. "Are you going somewhere?"

Alex's face went scarlet. "Oh, yes. We're going to Hogsmeade."

The boy felt like a rock just plummeted in his stomach. "But—but I thought students weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade until their third year."

"That's what we thought. Until we got a letter this summer saying that the rules had changed. Now we can go this year." The girl's face went even redder as Tobias's frown went even deeper. "Aren't—Aren't you going?" She then turned to her friends. "You can come with us if you like."

The boy shook his head. "Um, no thank you, Alex. I just realized I have some homework to do in the library."

Tobias then turned around and walked out of the Slytherin common room. The pain in his chest grew. He couldn't believe it—even the second years were going and he was stuck here. In the castle. He huffed in annoyance, making his way towards the library. He was halfway there when he ran into the last person he wanted to see on a Sunday—Professor Lupin.

"Ah, Tobias," The professor said. "I thought you would be in Hogsmeade with the rest of your friends."

There was that sick feeling again. "My grandfather didn't sign my permission slip." The boy responded in a not-so-casual tone.

The Slytherin didn't see Lupin stiffen at the word "grandfather," but the professor shrugged it off. "Where are you headed to?"

"The library. Had some work I wanted to finish up."

"Ah, I see." Lupin laughed. "Why don't you do your homework in my office, Tobias? You'll find I'm good company and I can show you the grindylow I've just received for the next lesson."

Tobias raised an eyebrow, now intrigued. "Grindylow?"

"A water demon. I could describe what it looks like all day, but I'd rather show you. You'll have a head start over the class come Monday morning—and who wouldn't want a head start over Hermione Granger?"

At that, Tobias gave a little laugh. He nodded and followed Professor Lupin to his office. Once they arrived, Tobias quickly identified the grindylow standing in a large tank of water. It had sharp little horns everywhere and long fingers. It had its face pressed against the tank, making faces at the Slytherin third-year.

"Don't pay it any mind, Tobias." Professor Lupin said calmly. "You'll find him easy to deal with, especially since we've dealt with kappas. The trick is to break his grip. See his long fingers—they're strong, but very brittle."

Tobias took one last look at the grindylow before it disappeared in a bushel of weeds. The boy then took a seat at Lupin's desk, taking in the appearance of the room. The last time Tobias had been here, it was when Lockhart was teaching. The walls were covered in portraits of the previous DADA professor, but now the walls were bare. The room was crowded with bookshelves, which hardly contained any books. They had wild contraptions, jars of creatures and even a few sneakascopes. The Slytherin couldn't help but become fascinated by the professor's display.

"Tea?" said Professor Lupin.

"Um, sure."

Lupin tapped the tea kettle with his wand, and the kettle began to roar with steam. Another tap of his wand, and two cups appeared on his desk. The kettle rose from its spot and poured the hot water into the two cups. The professor then pulled two tea bags out of his desk drawer.

"It seems I've only got teabags, I'm afraid—but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?" Tobias frowned at the professor, but the shabby man only winked.

"Professor McGonagall told me," Lupin continued, passing Tobias his cup of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No." And from the boy's face, Lupin could tell that the boy meant it. There was a silence and the Tobias spoke again.

"Why didn't you let me fight the boggart?"

The professor seemed confused by his question. "I beg your pardon?"

Tobias twirled his spoon in his cup of tea. "The boggart had landed right in front of me, yet you stopped me from confronting it? Why?"

It was a question that had been spiraling through the Slytherin's head since he stepped inside the professor's office. He was still suspicious of Professor Lupin and he couldn't help but think that maybe the reason Lupin didn't let him take on the boggart is because he was afraid of what it would turn into. What if it had turned into the black dog? Would the professor have known that it would, blocking Tobias's view so it wouldn't be revealed. If so, why was Professor Lupin hiding something that had nothing to do with him?

Yet, Tobias seemed to be proven wrong as Professor Lupin looked at him, his voice full of surprise. "I would have thought that was obvious, Tobias." He sipped some of his tea. "I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would have taken the shape of a dementor, or perhaps, the young Tom Riddle you faced in the Chamber of Secrets last year."

Tobias stiffened, not expecting that answer from the professor. The boy assumed that the professor had done it for petty reasons—maybe to pick a fight with Snape, who didn't seem very fond of the man. But this answer was unexpected—and weirdly thoughtful.

"Cleary, I was wrong," Lupin continued. "I just didn't think it would be a good idea for your grandfather to appear in front of a group of students. It would raise questions."

"No." Tobias said, his voice soft, which surprised Lupin even more. It reminded him of James, when he was coming to grips with something he couldn't handle. "You were right about the dementors. I remembered the ones from the train."

The man nodded, leaning back in his chair. "That's a very wise choice, Tobias. I'm impressed."

"Impressed?"

"Your fear of dementors suggests that what you fear most of all is—well, fear. It's very wise."

Tobias shrugged. It didn't seem wise—it seemed complicated. How was it that everything in his life was complicated? Why couldn't he be afraid of something simple? Like clowns or even spiders. To fear fear itself? He was sure that was rarely ever heard of.

"So all this time," said the professor, "you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?"

"Not….necessarily." Tobias said slowly, not trying to reveal the real reason why he thought Lupin was stopping him from tackling the boggart. "But it just didn't seem fair, I guess."

Lupin took another sip of his tea. "I see."

The boy awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Professor, I was wondering—you know the dementors—"

Tobias wasn't able to finish his sentence as there was a knock on the door. Professor Lupin called for the visitor to come in, and the visitor revealed themselves to be Professor Snape. Tobias noticed the man was carrying a silver goblet. It was filled to the rim with something purple, wisps of smoke rising from the top.

Snape said nothing to Tobias as he walked in the room, but his eyes locked on Lupin's. "I didn't realize I was interrupting something."

"Oh, it's nothing, Severus." Lupin said calmly. "I was just showing Tobias the grindylow I caught for class on Monday.

"Fascinating," the man said back, thought he didn't even look at the creature. "Where would you like me to set your potion?"

"If you could leave it on the desk that would be fine."

Professor Snape then walked over, setting the silver goblet on Lupin's desk. "You should drink this directly, Remus. I have also made a cauldronful if you need more."

"Thank you." Professor Lupin said. "I should probably take some again tomorrow."

"My pleasure." The potion's professor then backed out of the room, his eyes still examining the scene.

"Do you two know each other?" Tobias asked.

"We went to Hogwarts together." Answered Lupin. "We didn't seem to get along well, but Severus has always proven himself helpful when needed. As you can see, he has very kindly concocted a potion for me."

He lifted the goblet, his eyes wandering over the purple liquid. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He took a sip and shuddered. "Pity sugar makes it useless."

The Slytherin frowned. "Are you sick?"

"I've been feeling a bit off-color, lately. Unfortunately, this potion is the only one that helps—another reason why I am forever grateful for Professor Snape. You see, he is the only one who is willing to make it."

For some reason, Tobias wanted to knock the goblet out of Professor Lupin's hands. It was naïve to think that Lupin didn't know that he had taken the spot that Snape always desired. And now Snape had willingly made a potion that could only cure the man's sickness? After admitting that they didn't get along in school?

He didn't say anything, however, as Professor Lupin drained the last of the potion. There was something strange about the professor—Tobias just couldn't put his finger on it. His assumptions about the professor being the black dog from Theo's went away—as the boy now sat in Lupin's office, he found that the connection with the professor wasn't as strong as the one he felt with the black dog. But that didn't mean something else wasn't going on—and Tobias had a strong feeling it had something to do with that silver goblet full of potion. For one thing, it was still smoking.

"Well, Tobias," Lupin said. "I better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later."

Tobias put his cup of tea down, standing up to leave. "Thank you, professor, for having me."

The professor smiled back. "Anytime."

* * *

Theodore did the honors of dumping the sack full of candy that he and Ron had collected from Hogsmeade on the dinner table. It was so much that some of it ended up in Tobias's lap.

"There you go." Theodore said.

Ron shook out the sack for any leftover candy. "We got as much as we could carry."

"Which seems to be the entire Honeydukes." Teased Draco.

"Thanks." Said Tobias, running his fingers through all the sweets. "So how was it? What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

"Everywhere." Hermione said tiredly. "And I mean everywhere."

"You should've seen the post office, Tobias!" Neville said excitedly. "Hundreds of owls—all of them color coded depending on how fast you want your mail delivered."

Ron scoffed. "Forget the post office. I'm never drinking pumpkin juice again. The Three Broomsticks has this stuff called butterbeer. Fred and George always talked about how good it was—but I never believed them until now. Wish we could've brought you some."

"And we saw an _ogre!_ " Theodore said. "Well, I think it was an ogre. The owner said they come all the time."

"What did you do?" Draco asked, trying to change the subject.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Did you get any work done?"

"No." Tobias shook his head. "I spent the evening in Lupin's office."

Theodore frowned. "Doing what?"

"Nothing really. We just talked about school, and then Snape walked in."

Ron eyes went wide. " _Snape_ walked in?"

"Then, what happened?" Draco asked.

"He came in and gave Professor Lupin some potion."

Neville gulped. "And Professor Lupin drank it?"

"Is he mad?" Theodore chipped in. "I mean, even though Snape's saved our lives a couple times, I wouldn't trust anything I didn't see him make."

Tobias shrugged. "He seemed to be fine drinking it, but something's still off about them. About both of them. The way Snape was looking at Lupin—it was as if he knew something nobody else knew."

"You think Snape doesn't trust Professor Lupin" Hermione asked.

"I think he's jealous," said Ron, shoving a mouthful of potatoes in his mouth. "This is the second year Snape's lost the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to someone else."

"It didn't seem like that." Said Tobias. "Lupin told me they didn't get along in school."

Draco snorted. "Leave to Snape to hold a grudge."

"What if Lupin _is_ hiding something?" Theodore said.

Neville took a bite of a licorice wand. "He doesn't seem like the type of guy to have dark secrets."

"Theodore may be on to something," Hermione said. "Think about it. These past two years, Snape has always been there for us. Just _us._ In the third-floor corridor _and_ in the Chamber of Secrets. He could sense something in Lupin that we aren't seeing."

"You think I should stay away from him?" asked Tobias.

"I think you should be careful, Tobias." Hermione said worriedly. And she didn't say anything else.

For the rest of the night, the six friends enjoyed the Halloween feast. Ron and Theodore were helping themselves to seconds and shoving more candy down their sack. Tobias and Draco had involved themselves in a conversation about Quidditch and Neville and Hermione began talking about the trip to Hogsmeade. For once, everything seemed normal—compared to their previous Halloweens. But that feeling went down the drain as the six walked back to their common rooms from the Great Hall.

Draco, Tobias, and Theodore had agreed to walk with the Gryffindors up to Gryffindor tower. They followed the rest of the crowd up the steps to the tower, but found that the entrance was blocked and the Gryffindor students were being forced to wait outside.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, but nobody seemed to hear him over all the commotion.

"Excuse me!" They heard a voice yell. "Excuse me! _Head Boy_ coming through—move aside!"

Percy was pushing through the crowd, and Tobias and the rest pushed through after him, following the Weasley boy to the top of the steps. Tobias almost bumped into Percy as the boy stopped suddenly. He didn't turn around but his voice was now stern and cold.

"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

The students went quiet, all trying to see why Percy needed Dumbledore. Nobody couldn't see anything, however, as Percy wouldn't budge from his spot at the top of the stairs. Everyone remained clueless until Dumbledore arrived. The students split like the Red Sea, allowing the headmaster to swiftly walk up the steps to where Percy and the rest were standing. Hermione gasped as the Head Boy finally moved aside, revealing the reason to why everyone was waiting outside.

The usual portrait that held the entrance to the Gryffindor common room had been slashed viciously. The Fat Lady was now gone. The questions that were floating around in everyone's head now were: What could have done this? And where was the Fat Lady?

Dumbledore turned around, finding Professor McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape positioned on the steps behind him.

"We need to find her, quickly." He said. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

Professor McGonagall nodded, hurrying back down the steps to find Filch. The headmaster opened his mouth to address his next audience but a loud cackle stopped him.

"You'll be lucky!" said Peeves, who was smiling widely at the crowd of horrified and worried faces.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore said seriously. Peeves smile faltered, settling himself on the knight statue beside the portrait.

"She's ashamed, Headmaster." Peeves went on. "She doesn't want to be seen—a horrible mess she is. I saw her, running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir. Crying something dreadful." He tried to hide his smirk at that. "Poor thing."

"Did she say who did it?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Oh yes, Professor Loony. _He_ got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves almost squealed, his smile wider than ever. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

There was another gasp and the castle went quiet once more. Tobias felt like his head was spinning. His blood had run cold. Sirius Black was in the castle? How did he get in? Most importantly, where was he now?

"Professor Snape, gather all the students and direct them to the Great Hall." Dumbledore said calmly. "Professor Lupin, gather all the teachers you can find and have them begin searching the castle for Black."

Professor Snape and Lupin nodded. Snape began rounding up the current students, directing them to the Great Hall. Everyone moved quickly, trying to stay at the front of the group. Nobody wanted to be left behind when Sirius Black was lurking around the castle. Tobias hadn't said anything since Peeves broke the news—he could barely focus. However, he wasn't the only one who seemed upset.

"What's wrong, Theo?" Neville asked.

Everyone turned around to see that Theodore was frowning deeply, his arms folded across his chest.

"Out of all the holidays, it always happens on Halloween." The boy grumbled. "I'm sick of this shit."

 **Author's Note: I'm sick of it too, Theo! Continue reviewing and following along. Thank you to those who have just joined the journey! Your feedback keeps me going!**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	48. POA10: When In Fear, Make Discoveries

Here we go again

We're sick like animals

We play pretend

You're just a cannibal

And I'm afraid I won't get out alive

No, I won't sleep tonight

~ Animals x Neon Trees

Chapter 48: When In Fear, Make Discoveries

It was a silent dinner. Not silent because Terrell had just broken the news that the Dark Lord was dying. Not silent because word had gotten around that Sirius Black was inside Hogwarts. It wasn't even silent because Lucius had brought up Voldemort's mysterious son. It was silent because everyone was in their own thoughts. Voldemort was dying and there was only one question that needed to be answered: What would happen now?

The father of the heirs sat at the dining table in Nott Manor. Terrell had invited them all to inform them of their master's inevitable death, but one thing led to another and here they were. They were now the Dark Lords—once Voldemort was dead, they would all inherit the dark crown as the Heads of Voldemort's regime. Unfortunately, they only had the title until the heirs came of age—and then their sons would take their rightful places on the throne of dark magic.

But today the fathers didn't think about that. On one side of the spectrum, today was a day of sorrow. To honor their master—to honor his legacy and pray to Salazar that his rule would live on, even without his physical being. But on the other side of the spectrum, today was a day for celebration. In a matter of months, they would be free. They could be whoever they wanted to be. Do whatever they wanted to do. They would be the leaders- they would call the shots. The fate of the wizarding world would lie in their hands.

Lucius set down his glass of wine, using two fingers to summon a house elf to refill his glass. As the creature slowly poured his drink, he had made the decision to speak first on the matter.

"The heirs should be removed from Hogwarts." He said coolly. "Once Voldemort is dead, there would be no reason to uphold the deal he made with Dumbledore."

Terrell nodded. "I agree. But to where?"

"I say Durmstrang." Said Darian Zabini. He lightly dabbed his face with a napkin, returning the cloth beside his plate. "They would be exposed to Grindelwald's influence. Everyone knows that was Dumbledore's first enemy."

Another silence.

"But how much?" Terrell replied. "Exposing them to Grindlewald would be the same as training them to uphold the Dark Lord's legacy. It isn't the same. Someone would falter."

"Are you referring to your son, Nott?" Zabini asked curiously.

Nott shot a look at the man, his eyes hard and cold. Zabini, however, did not break his gaze with the man, but only cast a light smirk at him.

"It could be anyone of the boys." Lucius said lightly, ignoring the tension between Terrell and Zabini. "But I think our issue lies in the top heir. Tobias LeStrange. Once the Dark Lord dies, the boy won't have a mentor. He has no other father figure. He would have nothing to bound him to our cause."

Terrell shook his head. "Voldemort has given me a letter. A letter to give to Tobias. He is certain that once the boy reads it, he will be bound to complete what the Dark Lord has set for him."

Lucius took another sip of wine, trying to decide if he wanted to dispute the Dark Lord's course of action. "And if that doesn't work?"

"We would have Voldemort's son, right?" Zabini spoke again. "I assume that was the Dark Lord's contingency plan?"

"Atlas isn't aware that the Dark Lord is his father." The blonde- haired man said. "And I have yet to figure out who his mother is. Right now, he cannot be trusted. Dark Mark or not, we cannot rely on him."

The two men nodded.

"What about Snape?" asked Nott. "What if we put Tobias in Snape's care? He is the next legal guardian down from the Dark Lord."

Zabini scoffed. "Snape cannot be trusted either. We all know this, Terrell."

"Severus is my oldest friend, Darian." Lucius said coldly. "I would trust him with my life. The Dark Lord certainly trusts him with his."

"Do you honestly think Snape is going to let you take that boy from Hogwarts? Have you forgotten who Tobias LeStrange _really_ is, Lucius?" Zabini laughed. "He's Harry Potter! Lily Potter's s _on_. The girl who Snape has been in love with all his life. The girl he would do anything for."

Lucius was silent. A bubbling pit in his stomach told him that Zabini was right. Though he trusted Severus with his life, could he trust him with Harry Potter's? He took another sip of wine, trying to decipher Snape's loyalty.

"He has a point." Terrell said, running his fingers over the rim of his wine glass. "Snape would be a liability in our plans. He could easily become another problem."

"What do you impose then?" Lucius asked.

There was a pause, and Terrell thought long and hard about the words that were about to come out of his mouth. With the Dark Lord being gone, it would be a risk, but if everything went as planned, it would be the best decision they would ever make. It would be the first step in ensuring that what they've been through was worth it. That it wouldn't all go to waste.

The man sniffed, adjusting his glasses. "We need to break Bellatrix and the remaining Death Eaters out of Azkaban."

"No."

Darian said it immediately. "It's too risky. They're still looking for Black. The Ministry has Azkaban on lockdown. It would be a suicide mission trying to break _one_ of them out."

"I agree with, Nott." Lucius said, causing Zabini's jaw to clench. "Some of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants are locked in Azkaban. If anybody can keep his reign alive, it would be them. And let's not forget that Bellatrix is Tobias's appointed mother. If he turns out anything like her—"

"Then we better start planning our funerals now." Zabini retorted, downing the rest of his wine. "You know how she is, Malfoy. She'll want the authority all to herself, especially with Voldemort gone."

"She'll keep order." Nott argued back. "If we break her out now, she won't be able to do much. The dementors will still be out looking for Black. We could bring her home, keep her with her sister."

Zabini laughed mockingly. " _Keep her with her sister?_ You want to keep a mass murder confined in a mansion after you _just_ broke her out of prison?"

Lucius smirked. "She will stay. When dealing with my sister-in-law, one needs the correct type of influence."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," Terrell cut in. "She will need a reason to stay put. Just as Voldemort has written a letter to ensure our hold on Tobias, Bellatrix will need a letter justifying why we need her to be civilized. She idolizes Voldemort—anything that he says she will follow, even after he's gone."

"So now we're just putting our trust in pieces of parchment?" Zabini said skeptically. "And what if all of this goes wrong? What if Tobias doesn't stay true to his cause? What if Bellatrix wakes up one morning and decides to kill us all? Then what?"

The other two men were silent, seeing that Zabini had a point. How could it be that they finally had the chance to do things their way, and nothing seemed reasonable? After all these years, how did they not have what it took to be the Dark Lord? But Lucius refused to fall to such levels of negativity. This plan had to work. It had to.

"Then they will be terminated. As well as Snape, if he causes any problems." Said Lucius. Zabini rolled his eyes and Terrell said nothing. "I will be heading to Azkaban tomorrow, to finish some arrangements with an old friend. If all goes well, we can proceed to the arrangements for the breakout." He then reached for his glass, holding it above the table. "For Magic is Might."

The other two men raised their glasses in return. "For Magic is Might."

* * *

The Great Hall was filled with chatter from all the houses. Everyone who wasn't a Gryffindor or the three Slytherin heirs looked utterly confused, unaware of why they had been brought back to the great chamber when they had just left from dinner. Dumbledore stood at the front of the Great Hall, beside him stood the rest of the professors. Professor Snape looked livid while Professor Lupin seemed very leveled with the situation, though Tobias noticed that he looked paler. Professor McGonagall was doing her best to calm the students who were aware of the situation. The rest of the professors were still guiding students to the Great Hall.

The room finally calmed down as Professor Dumbledore called the students to attention. His next words kept the school in a state of silence. It seems that nobody was prepared for this type of news. But what did they expect? It _was_ Halloween.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," The headmaster said, and the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of the Great Hall doors closing. "It seems we have an unwanted visitor in the castle. For your own safety, you will have to spend the night here until the morning. Prefects will stand guard over the entrances to the hall and the Head Boy and Head Girl will be in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately." He then turned to Percy, who tried to look important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

He then flicked his wand and the usual house tables disappeared. Another flick, and the floor was now covered in hundreds of purple sleeping bags and white fluffy pillows. Dumbledore then stepped down from his podium, leading the line of professors out of the Great Hall. The students were silent until they heard the sounds of the Great Hall doors closing again. The room was once again filled with chatter.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" Percy called out amongst the students. "Lights out in ten minutes!"

Tobias and the rest grabbed their sleeping bags and claimed a corner on the far side of the Great Hall. They were soon joined by Pansy and Tracey Davis, who had brought along their sleeping bags as well. The eight third-years all sat in a circle, conversing about the incident that just happened.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered.

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. But it's obvious Dumbledore thinks so."

"Any reason why he chose today?" Pansy asked, and the six turned their heads to look at her. She rolled her eyes. "He picked the day where none of us were in the castle."

Neville patted Trevor, his hand shaking. "Maybe we got lucky?"

Theodore shook his head. "I don't believe in luck. He was looking for something."

"Or someone." Tracey said.

"Meaning?" Tobias asked, his stomach twisting at her response.

The Slytherin girl crossed her feet. "Everyone thinks it's strange that Black decided to sneak into the castle today, but I say it's brilliant. He picked the one day that everyone wasn't in the castle." He eyes then fell on Tobias's. "Everyone except Tobias LeStrange."

"But he broke into Gryffindor Tower." Draco argued. "If Tobias was his target, he would've broken into the Slytherin common room. What was he doing messing with the Fat Lady?"

"Maybe he got lost?" asked Neville.

"Highly unlikely, Longbottom." Theodore said. "Yet, that is a high possibility."

"I wonder what he wanted from the Fat Lady." Said Hermione. "Whatever it was, she obviously didn't give it to him, sparking his temper at her."

Tobias said nothing. All around him, people were asking questions about Sirius Black's appearance in the castle. Questions of "How did he get in?" and "Where was he now?" and "What should we do with LeStrange?"

"He couldn't have apparated in." Hermione said. "The castle is protected with all types of enchantments. Enchantments that would prevent anyone from just apparating inside."

"A disguise maybe?" Theodore said, but the witch shook her head at that, too.

"The dementors would be able to see through the disguise. They're attracted to souls, remember? Not appearances."

"Fred and George say there are secret passages around the whole school." Ron said. "Maybe he used one of those."

Draco shook his head. "Filch knows all the secret passageways. Between him and that demonic cat of his, they would've noticed if something came through. Especially tonight…"

At his words, the lights went out in the Great Hall. Nothing could be seen but the glittering silhouettes of the ghosts that were patrolling the castle, some of them stopping to talk to the prefects. Tobias stared at the ceiling while the rest of his friends climbed into their sleeping bags. He stared at the stars of the enchanted ceiling, the previous conversation floating through his head. He looked over, noticing that Pansy was doing the same. When Percy wasn't looking, he scooted his sleeping bag next to her.

Pansy didn't say anything, but she knew that Tobias was now lying next to her. This past month, despite her deepest urge not to, the Slytherin girl had been avoiding her betrothed. The only explanation was that Daphne's words had stuck with her. It was obvious what Pansy was doing, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Tobias had a crush on Ginny Weasley and there was nothing she could do about it. She had to stop pretending to be his friend and actually be his friend. And the only way she could to that was to not talk to him as much, even though it killed her not to. She needed to be herself, instead of Tobias LeStrange's betrothed.

But tonight, she broke her pact.

"You've been avoiding me." He whispered, his eyes still locked on the stars above.

"And you've just noticed?" The girl retorted back.

Tobias laughed softly, and she felt her heart melt a bit. "Oh, I've noticed." He then frowned. "A lot has been going on lately, however. I haven't had the chance to talk to you."

"I'm only here because I wanted to make sure you were okay." She said. Her tone was unlike herself, and it made her nervous. She didn't know how Tobias would respond. But a part of her told her she shouldn't be worried about that. The boy went silent, as she feared, and she sighed. She couldn't do it.

"Are you okay?" She turned to face him, her eyes locking on his when she found that he was already looking at her. It was like he could see through her façade.

"I'm fine." He said automatically. "I mean—I guess, I'm fine. How are you supposed to feel when a mass murderer who is out to get you steps foot inside your school?"

It was Pansy's turn to chuckle at that. "I can't answer that."

There was silence between them. Pansy didn't know what else to say. This wasn't like the summertime, where they could talk about any and everything. Everything seemed so _dark_ now, every conversation was Sirius Black. The school was surrounded in dementors—even Dumbledore seemed to be in grumpy moods. This whole school year wasn't sitting right with her, and it had just begun.

"Can I tell you something?" Tobias asked her. She nodded against her pillow.

"Anything."

He turned to stare back at the stars. "I feel afraid." Pansy turned back to look at him, surprised at his words. After everything they've been through, Tobias seemed to be unafraid of it all. Always diving head first into the action. But here he was, and she could see it in his eyes. It was like she finally seeing past his cover—beyond the surface. She could finally see his fear.

"These past two years I've escaped mere death. A chamber came apart right on top of me and I survived. I went up against a Basilisk and survived. I'm afraid that if Sirius Black catches up with me, my luck will run out."

Pansy's eyes never left Tobias's face. He had just said the exact words she had been thinking since the news of Sirius Black's escape had come out. For the past two years, it seemed that everything was working in his favor. That Tobias LeStrange could solve any mess he got himself into. But this, this just seemed too dangerous. It all seemed unreal at first. But she guessed that now—now that Sirius Black was actually inside the castle, everything was now blooming into color. They had to face reality. What if his luck had run out? What if nothing could save him this time?

"I don't believe in luck." She whispered back, thinking about what Theodore said earlier. "You got out of those situations because you had friends to count on—people who care about you. And that is what you'll have this time."

The dark- haired Slytherin didn't say anything, and Pansy wasn't sure if he believed her or not. After a few minutes of silence, she rolled back over, her back facing Tobias. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to go to sleep. Her eyes opened again when she heard his voice.

"Thank you." He said softly. She didn't respond but closed her eyes again to fall asleep.

* * *

It had been hours before Dumbledore called off the search for Black. As the old wizard expected, the Azkaban escapee was nowhere to be found. Whatever Sirius had been looking for, he must've found it—making a quick escape from the castle before anyone could find him. His footsteps were light and tired as he made his way back to the Great Hall.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the Head Boy, Percy Weasley. From the way the red- haired boy looked, Dumbledore could tell he had been expecting good news. However, the headmaster had no news to deliver to him.

"Any sign of him?" The boy asked.

"No." Dumbledore shook his head. "All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

The headmaster nodded, continuing his walk through the rows of sleeping bags. Percy followed beside him, his eyes opened for anyone who wasn't awake.

"Good." Said the old wizard, doing the same. "There's no point in moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

Percy nodded. "And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of the Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently, she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

The doors to the Great Hall opened again, and this time it was Professor Snape who stepped into the chamber. Dumbledore dismissed Percy, making his way towards the black- haired man.

"Any sign?"

Snape shook his head. "No. The whole third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower?" Dumbledore pressed on. "Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…"

"Very well. As expected, I didn't think Black would stay for long. Whatever he wanted, he must have gotten it. Otherwise, he still would be here."

Snape didn't pay much attention to what Dumbledore was saying. To be honest, he wasn't focused on what Black was after. It was a bigger mystery to him how he got in. He had a theory that he'd been sitting on since the term started, and this time, Dumbledore was going to hear him out.

"Do you have any idea as to how he got in, Professor?" He asked, trying to pique Dumbledore's interest on the matter.

"Many, Severus," the old wizard responded. "each of them as unlikely as the next."

"I think someone helped him." Snape continued. " _Someone_ close to him. You do remember the conversation we had before the term started, don't you? About my doubts towards…?" He trailed off

The headmaster nodded. "I do, Severus. But I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it."

"As that may stand, headmaster, I just find it—almost impossible—that Black entered the castle without any outside help. With the dementors guarding the castle, there should have been no way for him to get this close."

"Your jealousy is clouding your judgment, my friend." Dumbledore said, turning to face the potions professor. "Nobody helped Sirius Black. It is best that you drop this accusation now."

Snape's jaw clenched. "But—"

"I must go speak to the dementors—I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

The headmaster then walked backed towards the Great Hall doors, his footsteps growing softer and softer until the doors finally closed. Snape was left with Percy, who still tried to look as useful as possible, though the search was over.

"Professor," asked Percy. "didn't the dementors want to help look for Black?"

Snape nodded. "Yes, but the headmaster has declared that no dementor will cross into the castle. Not even tonight."

He turned to look at the doors Dumbledore just walked out of, a feeling of silent rage rushing through his veins. Despite the old wizard's judgment, Snape would hold on to his theory. Someone helped Sirius Black into the castle, and who knew exactly who was responsible. It was only a matter of time before the pair slipped up, and Snape could end this once and for all. He too then walked out the Great Hall, the doors thundering behind him.

Theodore laid in his sleeping bag, his eyes never leaving the scene. As soon as Dumbledore walked back in, he woke up the person nearest to him. That person was Neville, and the two boys watched as the headmaster spoke to Percy, and then Snape. From what they heard, Black had left the castle and that he _was_ looking for something that belonged in the Gryffindor common room. They also learned that Snape was convinced that someone in the castle was helping Sirius Black—giving him access inside Hogwarts. The two boys both stared at each other, both unaware that they were asking themselves the same questions.

"Do you know what this means, Longbottom?" Theodore asked, his eyes watching the outline which was Professor Snape walk out the Great Hall.

Neville nodded, gulping in response. They both looked at each other, the same questions running wild in their minds. What was in the Gryffindor common room that Black wanted? And who did Snape believe was helping Black get inside the castle?

* * *

Quirrell groaned as the sunlight seeped through his eyelids, announcing that it was now morning. He had a horrible hangover and his body ached all over. Squinting his eyes open a bit, he could see the faint outlines of the bottles of brandy and firewhiskey set upon his nightstand. He had been drinking all night—trying to ignore the calls from the Order. It wasn't until later that he had gotten word that Sirius Black had been spotted in the Hogwarts castle. By then it was already too late. Quirrell was too hammered to make himself useful. And that was even if he wanted to be useful.

He rolled over in his bed, which smelled of the same alcohol that was on his breath. He groaned again, slamming a pillow over his face. It wasn't to block out the sunlight—the sunlight he could handle. It was the constant thoughts of the Order and this "alternate" timeline Dumbledore had told him about a month ago. Even when he thought he was rid of it, he was thrown back into the abyss. The decision making, the sacrifices. He was tired of it. He gritted his teeth as he unconsciously ghosted a hand over his leg. The same leg he had broken that night two years ago. When he had confronted Tobias LeStrange with the truth about his parents.

At that moment, it felt like the right thing to do. He couldn't stand to see this boy grow up to be just like Voldemort. It made him sick to watch the wizarding world's proclaimed savior be raised by the darkest wizard of all time. He thought he was doing the right thing, despite Dumbledore's orders. He risked it all, for one boy. And he paid the price. A broken leg and a broken reputation. All for one student.

He rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling, his arms lying lazily by his side. History seemed to be repeating itself once more. He was being asked to risk it all again, for one boy. One student. So he could be saved from a fate worse than death. But this time, Quirrell refused. Why should he have agreed? Despite the incident those years ago, his life was perfectly normal—nothing made him believe that this timeline could be dangerous. Nothing seemed out of place. But Dumbledore was set on the fact that they didn't belong here. But the funny thing was, Quirrell felt like he _did_ belong here. And he was sure that there were many others that felt the same way he did.

He sat up, becoming irritated by the never-ending thoughts swirling in his head. Mustering all the strength he had, he crawled out of bed, making his way towards the bathroom. He met his reflection first, unsurprised by the way he looked. He looked older- as if all the life had been sucked out of him. There was stubble on his face from where a beard was threatening to grow. His face was dull, bags settling under his eyelids. He sniffed nonchalantly, turning the handle on the sink, running his hands under the water from the faucet.

He splashed the water against his face, hoping for some rejuvenation, but none came. He didn't bother drying his face, leaving the bathroom to continue to his next destination: the kitchen. His nerves calmed when he heard the familiar sounds of pots and pans clanging. The smell of sausage seduced his nostrils and aroused his hunger. Stepping through the doorway, he found her standing in front of the stove. Somehow, he knew that she was aware of his presence.

"Mother." He said. "You know we have spells for that. Cooking and cleaning and all of that."

"I know." She said, her voice light and carefree. "But unfortunately, you're the only wizard in the house, and from your condition—you may do more harm than good."

She turned around, her facial expression matching the tone of her voice. Her blue eyes locked on his, and she smiled, causing him to do the same as well.

"Now sit." She said. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

Quirrell found a seat at the kitchen table, which was flooded with letters and parchment. His eyes caught a glance of one of the letters, his stomach immediately tightening as he recognized the familiar handwriting. _Snape's_ handwriting.

"Has Severus been by here?" He called out to her, his fingers reaching for the letter.

"He came by a few days ago, wanting to speak to you. It was a surprise visit. Usually, he would just write."

The man read the letter carefully, and as he feared, the contents of it pertained to the issue he was trying to suppress. "What did he want to talk about?"

His mother was silent, but then finally spoke. "He wouldn't say much. Only that it was important and that he needed to speak with you."

"Hm." Was all Quirrell said back.

The old woman finally turned around, her eyes stopping on Quirrell, who was holding the letter from Snape in his hands. She walked over fearlessly, setting the plate of sausage and eggs down in front of him. She sat in her usual spot across from him. There was no hint of guiltiness in her eyes, though she had been caught in her lie.

"I am not going to help them, mother." Her son said, folding the letter up and tossing back towards the middle of the dining table.

"It's been two years, Quirinus." She argued back. "They haven't asked you for anything in two years. And the first time they reach out to you, you say _no_?"

"It isn't that simple."

"It is that simple. A child is dying and you are the only one who can save him. Save all of us before things get worse."

Quirrell closed his eyes, trying to hide his frustration. "And what if nothing gets worse? Or what if I go back, and everything in the original timeline isn't all cracked up like everyone thinks it is? We belong _here_ , mother. I belong here."

There was a deafening silence between them. Once again Quirrell's thoughts were flooding with the ideas of time travel and old regrets.

"It's okay to be afraid, Quirinus." His mother said. The man looked up, his eyes meeting the blue ones of his mother. She was seeing right through him, he knew.

"I know what lies on the other side." She said carefully, her voice never faltering though her son felt a lump rising in his throat. "What really happened that night two years ago. And I understand why you don't want to go back."

Her son was silent. She could see the fear in his eyes. The fear of the sacrifice he would have to make. He wouldn't be giving up his leg this time, but he would be giving up his life. Could he see that it was killing her too? That she was afraid also? That she would be losing her son—her _only_ son.

"But it's because of that night—that they felt like you would be perfect for this task. You have already shown them once that your life is a small price to pay for a bigger victory. This time is no different."

Quirrell shook his head. "I was foolish then. Dumbledore told me not to tell him the truth and I didn't listen."

"Because you wanted to do the right thing." His mother said. "You know in your heart that this is the right thing as well, you're just afraid."

There was another silence between them, and Quirrell felt his thoughts pounding against his skull. Why was it him? Why did it have to be him to change it all back? He had made his decision—he wasn't going back. This was the right thing to do. To live his life.

"I'm sorry, mother." He said, standing up from the table. "But I've made my decision. I'm not going back."

He left the kitchen, returning to his room. His mother sat there, sighing sadly as she heard his door shut. She had hoped that she would have gotten through to him—that she would have brought out the man that lived in her son two years ago. But perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps he would never be that man again—no matter how much she needed him to be.

* * *

Back at Hogwarts, Theodore and Neville quickly informed the group on what they heard last night from Snape and Dumbledore. They met in the library, sitting at their usual table at the back of the room. Tobias cast a silencing charm for good measure.

"Are you _sure_ that's what Snape said?" Hermione asked. She looked nervous, biting her lip as Theodore spoke.

The Slytherin nodded, raising his right hand. "Scout's honor. He thinks someone in the castle helped him get inside."

"But Dumbledore thinks otherwise," Neville added in. "But it doesn't seem impossible."

Draco seemed out of it, but he heard every word Theo and Neville said. In his head, he was going through the character profiles of each Hogwarts professor. But as he went through the list, each professor seemed less likely than the next to be personally close to Sirius Black. The only person who would seem suspect was Snape—but it couldn't be Snape? Could it?

"And whatever Black was looking for in Gryffindor Tower," Theodore continued. "Dumbledore's reckoned he found it. There was no sign of him anywhere."

For the next few days, the only talk around the school was of Sirius Black and how he got inside of the castle. Despite the many theories, each one sounding wilder than the next. Hannah Abbot, a Hufflepuff third year, was set on her theory that Sirius black could turn into a flowering shrub, hiding in plain sight. Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, was spreading the rumor that Sirius Black snuck in through one of the pictures. His reasoning was "How else could he have attacked the Fat Lady?"

Hermione, Ron, and Neville had gotten the short end of the stick when it came to the aftermath of the Halloween incident. The Fat Lady's canvas had been removed from Gryffindor Tower, only to be replaced by Sir Cadogan. He was a nightmare—and that was an understatement. It took forever for the Gryffindor friends to get inside of their common room. Sir Cadogan would think of the most complicated passwords and then change it at least twice before the day was over. In result, the Gryffindors began to hang out in the library more, only waiting until after dinner to return to their common room.

Tobias was sick of hearing about it— _all_ of it. He didn't care about how Sirius Black got in—the only thing he was worried about was what Black was after. It was obvious that Tobias wasn't the target—this time—but what was he doing trying to break into Gryffindor Tower?

And that wasn't even the half of it. Everywhere Tobias went, he could tell he was being followed. He had seen more professors in the corridors than he had in his whole two years at Hogwarts. Even Percy, who no doubt was acting under Mrs. Weasley's orders, was following him around like he was Tobias's bodyguard. Hermione tried to convince him that they were doing it for his safety, but what did Tobias need protection from? Black wasn't after him—so why did everyone seem worried?

"Maybe he wanted the sword of Gryffindor so he could slice your neck with it." Theodore mused, pretending to slit someone's throat.

The last straw came Tuesday night, four days before Slytherin's first Quidditch match against Gryffindor. Professor Snape had called Tobias into his office, and before Snape could even finish his statement, Tobias's whole face went red with anger.

"Slytherin has its first match on _Saturday,_ professor!" The boy roared. "I have to train!"

Snape did not raise his voice, nor did he react to the boy's anger. "I understand that, Mister LeStrange. But it's getting darker in the evenings now than it was before. We can't risk letting you out and Black tries to make another move."

Tobias groaned, already regretting his next words. "Then let Madam Hooch oversee the Slytherin Quidditch practices! Please, professor."

Snape stared at the boy, and from the surface, he looked as if he had been debating his decision. But that wasn't the case, his decision had already been made. _Curse those eyes._ He thought. _What would Lily have him do_? He finally sighed.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes as Tobias's mood immediately changed. "I will be giving Madam Hooch a copy of your practice schedule. But if anything happens," His tone was full of finality. "that will be the end of your evening practices. Is that understood?"

Tobias nodded quickly. "Yes sir."

Snape then dismissed him, watching as the boy practically ran out of his office. He only said yes because he believed Tobias needed something to distract him from this Sirius Black nonsense. The boy didn't need to get caught up in what seemed to be Sirius's guilt. Snape needed to put a stop to it before anyone got hurt—before Tobias got hurt.

* * *

Hermione had finally figured it out. Her heart was racing with excitement, but fear at the same time. What would she say when she found him? How would she tell him about her discovery? How would he react? What would he say? Would he lie and pretend she didn't know what she was talking about? Or would he admit to it, and then try to shut the Gryffindor up?

She shook these questions out of her head, walking towards the Slytherin dungeons. In the back of her head, a voice was screaming for her to turn back—to go warn Professor McGonagall. But this was something she needed to do for herself. She needed to know for sure that Blaise Zabini had a time turner and she needed to know why he was using it.

The way she realized who it was took a simple game of process of elimination. She went down the list of her friends, trying to think of reasons why they would need a time turner. She crossed Neville off the list first, seeing as something as complex as a time turner wouldn't be something you could trust the clumsy boy with. Theodore was the same. Though he was an heir, Theodore could be reckless sometimes. And if Lord Voldemort was smart, which Hermione believed he was (no matter how the thought sent shivers down her back), he wouldn't have given something as tempting as a time traveling device to the Slytherin boy. Ron was next. Ron had no reason to change time, and plus, Ron hated complex things. Everything in his life was black and white—simple. After eliminating those three, her list left two people. Draco Malfoy and Tobias LeStrange.

Being the two top heirs and the most skillful in magic, Hermione had her suspicions that Voldemort may have entrusted them with a time turner to use at his bidding. As chilling as that sounded, it made sense. So, she had to think bigger—if one of them did have a time turner, they wouldn't openly show it, or make it seem like they had one. She knew she felt the buzzing when she was in the proximity of the two boys, but to figure out which one, she needed to get them alone.

Draco was the easiest, for obvious reasons. They met in the library one afternoon to work on an essay for Professor Flitwick. She was used to Draco sitting next to her when they worked together, and she was hoping that today was no different. She kept her nerves leveled when the blonde-haired boy did as such, waiting for her time turner to begin buzzing. But nothing happened, and Hermione inwardly sighed as she was relieved that it wasn't Draco who had it.

Tobias was trickier. After two years of friendship, she and the Heir of the Dark Lord had only been alone twice. One was their first year when she believed that Tobias was stalking her; the second time was last year when they were both sent to Dumbledore's office after the petrification of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick. How was she going to get him alone a third time?

Her moment came after transfiguration. Her time turner had been buzzing the whole lesson. She noticed that Tobias had stayed after class to ask Professor McGonagall something and Hermione decided that she would wait for him. Once he was finished, the two made their way to potions. The Gryffindor witch was barely listening to what Tobias was saying, patiently waiting for that moment for her time turner to start buzzing. She frowned as it never did. She was stumped, none of her friends were in the possession of a time turner—so who was it?

She was knocked out of her thoughts when an unpleasant someone bumped into her in the corridor.

"Watch where you're going, mudblood." Zabini spat, smirking as Crabbe and Goyle filled the corridor with their laughter.

And was then the girl realized it. She didn't even care for Zabini's insult, she was too distracted that her time turner was now buzzing—buzzing harder than it had before. It was him. Blaise Zabini had a time turner.

So she created her plan to confront him. She had tricked Theodore into giving her the Slytherin password and told the others that she was supposed to be meeting up with Pansy in the Slytherin common room. Yes, she lied. Again. She couldn't stop. She was lying to Tobias about the truth about his father. She was lying to everyone about how she was getting to all of her classes. And now she was lying about her soon-to-be confrontation with Blaise Zabini. She felt guilty—it was eating her alive. But what would the boys had done if she had told them the truth? She would have to tell them about her time turner, as well as his—and she knew how bad Tobias's temper got when Zabini was involved. Not to mention Draco, especially if he found out that she was going to meet Zabini _alone._

She yelped. Someone had grabbed her arm, pulling her roughly into one of the corridor's alcoves. Her heart started to pounding, its pace increasing by ten. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what to do. All she could do was look into those light-brown eyes of Blaise Zabini. He said nothing, only staring at her with his usual look of disgust. His look of disgust faded, transforming into one of interest. Hermione soon realized why—her time turner was buzzing once more, and she had no doubt that Zabini's was doing the same.

"Show me it." He said, and she froze, his voice catching her off guard. His voice wasn't filled with the usual snobbish prep boy tone, but a voice of deep seriousness. Was it fear? Was it anger? She couldn't tell. She was afraid to look him back in his eyes—afraid that she would figure out the answer and he would turn away from her.

She lifted her hands to her robes, but then stopped. "Show me yours first."

Hermione had expected him to roll his eyes, or say some smart comment, but he didn't. She watched as he reached inside his robes, pulling out— _a time master?_ It was bigger than the time turner she had, way bigger. She knew about time masters, of course. She knew they could take you anywhere in time that you wanted. The past, the present, and even the future. How did Zabini get one of these? And what was he using it for?

"Yours." He said, knocking her out of her thoughts.

She took this moment to look into his eyes, trying to find the source of his voice. They were calm, but she could see it. It was fear. She reached into her robes once more, pulling out the gold time turner. She wondered what the tan Slytherin was afraid of as she laid the necklace against the outside of her robes.

Hermione barely had time to speak as Zabini pinned her against the wall, his hands brutally gripping her arms. She tried to fight against him, but it was no use.

"It was _you!"_ He seethed, his fingers sinking deeper into her skin.

Despite her blood status and his hatred for her, Blaise Zabini was aware of how smart Hermione Granger was. She was the brightest in their age. And after Dumbledore caught him during his last episode in the bathroom, Zabini knew that whatever was happening to him, it was getting worse. He needed help, and curse it all, but Granger was the only one who could help him.

He had tracked her down after catching word from Weasley and Nott that she was heading to the Slytherin common room to meet with Parkinson. Knowing the shortcuts that he was positive Granger wasn't aware of, he had gotten there first, hiding in the nearest alcove to wait for her.

It wasn't long until the bushy- haired mudblood came around the corner, a look of nervous excitement on her face. Blaise chose to make his move then. Whatever she was seeing Parkinson about, it would have to wait. So he grabbed her, pulling her into the dark alcove with him. He hated it, of course, being this close to a mudblood, but his disgust quickly evaporated. He noticed that his time turner was buzzing again. He looked at Granger, noticing the same look of interest—or maybe it was discovery—on her face as well. It was then he knew—Hermione Granger had a time device of her own.

"Get off of me!" She screamed, kicking him in his shin, but Zabini didn't break. He gripped her even harder. Hermione could see the fear growing in his eyes.

"LET ME GO!" The girl screamed again, but Zabini seemed to be ignoring her. Or was he?

His eyes never left hers as he addressed her. "I cast a silencing charm after pulling you in here, Granger. Nobody can hear you."

" _What do you want?"_

Blaise could see the tears forming in her eyes, but he didn't care. All this time he had been looking for Granger to help him, but it was Granger who had put him in this position in the first place.

"You did something to me! To my memories!" He growled. "Erasing things and changing them to the opposite!" He grabbed her time turner. "With this!"

"I haven't changed your memories, Zabini." Hermione spat, finally regaining her confidence. "Professor McGonagall gave me this time turner, to—" She stopped, yelping once more as Zabini squeezed her arms tighter.

"To _what?_ " He said dangerously low.

Hermione didn't answer, already having said too much. Not only did show her enemy her secret time turner, she had also told him who gave it to her. One more word and the secret of why she had it would've been out in the open for Zabini to use as he pleased.

"TO WHAT?!" He yelled louder. Blaise felt himself spiraling out of control. This wasn't like him. He always approached a situation with ease and cleverness. But this—him trapping Hermione Granger in a Slytherin alcove against her will? Yelling at her from the top of his lungs? Using physical force? This wasn't him. But he couldn't stop now, he needed to know.

"To help me get to all of my classes!" The girl yelled out, and Blaise could tell that she had just told him her darkest secret. He let her go, finally coming to grips with the tears that were running down Granger's face. _To get to her classes?_ It wasn't the answer he was expecting at all. He stared her down, she was still standing there. Why hadn't she run? She should've been halfway to LeStrange and Malfoy by now.

"You're lying." He said, slowly lowering his hands to his side.

"I'm not." The girl said fiercely. Hermione then dug in her bag, handing Zabini her class schedule. The tan Slytherin was reluctant at first, but he then took it, skimming over the classes. He felt stupid. Granger wasn't lying. She had about six classes with the same time slot. He handed the paper back to her, narrowing his eyes slightly when she snatched it from him.

"Happy now?" She spat.

Blaise didn't say anything, he refused to feel ever stupider than he already felt. He had just ruined his chance of asking Granger to help him with his "problem." He knew that she wouldn't help him now. Not after what he did to her. He walked out of the alcove, keeping his back turned to the Gryffindor girl as he walked away. He stopped, having forgotten one little detail.

"Your secret is safe with me, Granger." He sneered, his voice returning to his usual snobbish nature. He knew she could hear him, he didn't bother turning around to face her. "As long as you keep your mouth shut about mine."

He then walked away, listening to Granger's footsteps as she walked away. Once he stopped hearing them, he walked towards the Slytherin common room. He casually said the password, stepping inside through the entrance.

As soon as he walked in, Daphne stepped out of the next alcove. She was walking down the corridor when she saw Blaise grab Hermione. She couldn't hear what they were saying but became aware of how long they had been inside of the alcove. She assumed that someone must have put a silencing charm on the area—but what did they need one for? Everyone knew that Blaise Zabini hated Hermione Granger and vice versa. So what were they doing alone?

 _Your secret is safe with me, Granger. As long as you keep your mouth shut about mine._

What secret was Zabini referring to? And could it be true? Honest and good Hermione Granger had a secret—a secret only Blaise Zabini, her enemy knew?

"Scandalous." She said in a sing-song sort of way, twirling one of her blonde curls with her finger.

 **Author's Note: And Blaise loses control! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	49. POA11: Normalcy

Can we pretend that airplanes

In the night sky are like shooting stars?

I could really use a wish right now

Wish right now

Wish right now

~ Airplanes x B.O.B

Chapter 49: Normalcy

Tobias had had enough. It had just been a few days since the Halloween incident and the Slytherin boy was already tired of the "precautions" everyone was taking. He was sick of professors following him around. Madam Hooch, the most laid back of the professors, was even being cautious around him. Flint had to start Quidditch practice earlier than usual because Madam Hooch didn't want them practicing out in the dark. It was utter rubbish—and quite frankly—utter bullshit.

Nobody was being this cautious when the news first broke out—and Tobias actually thought Black _was_ after him. None of the teachers were finding stupid excuses to walk him to class or to keep him out of the corridors at night. Now all of a sudden Sirius Black breaks in and now Tobias is the most precious being at Hogwarts. It made him sick. And to top it all off. Sirius wasn't even after him that night. But he knew that wouldn't stop the professors—it wouldn't stop anyone from looking at him like he was the next murder victim of the year. It was the Heir of Slytherin all over again—except nobody hated him, they were scared for him. Tobias had the urge to roll his every time someone looked at him with what was unmistakably pity.

So to stop it all, hopefully, the Slytherin third-year went to the only person he knew for sure could make the castle flip upside down and have everyone be okay with it. He went to Professor Dumbledore. To his surprise—or not—the stairway to the headmaster's office was already opened. Tobias didn't care that this may lead to some sort of trap or that perhaps the professor himself was waiting for him. He just needed to get there. He just wanted it all to stop. And most importantly, he wanted Dumbledore to clarify that Sirius Black wasn't after him that night on Halloween. Once Dumbledore told him the truth, the rest would believe him and everything would return back to normal. He needed everything to be back to normal by the first Quidditch game on Saturday.

He didn't bother knocking on the door, he just walked right in. It didn't surprise him that Professor Dumbledore looked as if he was patiently waiting for him to arrive.

"Mister LeStrange." The headmaster said lightly, the usual twinkle in his eye. _Yes._ Tobias thought. _He was waiting for me._ "What brings you to my office?"

"I think you know Professor." Replied Tobias, clasping his hands behind his back.

Dumbledore nodded. "You want to talk about Sirius Black. About the attack on Halloween."

"I want to know what he was after. It's clear he wasn't after me—so why is everyone following me around?"

"They are just precautions, Tobias."

The boy shook his head. "Precautions for what? Nobody seemed to care when the news broke out that Black was after me. But now he breaks into the castle, attacks the fat lady of _Gryffindor Tower,_ and now everyone thinks I'm in trouble."

"I understand your frustration." Dumbledore said earnestly. "But the professors, as well as myself, have been concerned for your safety since you returned. Now that Black has successfully broken into the castle, you are at a greater risk." Tobias had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes again. "Despite what he was looking for, he can get _inside_. Next time it may not be Gryffindor Tower, it may be the Slytherin dungeons."

Despite the latter of what Dumbledore said, Tobias turned his attention to something else. "What was he after, professor?"

Dumbledore was silent, and Tobias could tell from the look on his face that he knew something nobody else knew. It was the same look he gave his grandfather when he, Draco, and Theodore travelled back in time during the events of the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore knew what Black was after, and from the looks of it, it wasn't Tobias. Maybe it could've been a long time ago, but it wasn't now. It was too long of a silence. Too deep of a silence. Would the headmaster even tell him the truth?

"It is true, he was after something hidden in Gryffindor Tower, but we have yet to figure out what it is." The headmaster said slowly. There was no twinkle in his eye—no mischief. His expression was unreadable and the Slytherin had a hard time deciphering whether Dumbledore was lying or not.

"We assumed he may have been after the Sword of Gryffindor, seeing as it used to hang in the Gryffindor common room—"

 _But only a true Gryffindor can summon the sword._ Thought Tobias, not believing Dumbledore's theory. Why wouldn't he tell him the truth?

Dumbledore chuckled as if he could read the boy's mind. "We both know that the theory behind the summoning of the sword is faulty, Mister LeStrange."

"Did he find it? Did he find the sword?"

The Headmaster's eyes revealed that mischievous twinkle. "No, he did not."

Tobias nodded, not wanting to push the issue any further. He knew Dumbledore was lying and he was pretty sure that Dumbledore knew that he knew he was lying. Either way it went, Dumbledore had given him proof that Tobias was no longer the target for Sirius Black. Whatever secret the headmaster was hiding, that was his business. The Slytherin was tired of playing Sherlock Holmes.

He then stood up, grabbing his bag. "Thank you for the confirmation, professor."

The headmaster nodded again, his eyes still twinkling. "Of course, Mister LeStrange." He then popped a lemon drop in his mouth. "Oh, and another thing. Professor Snape will be stepping in as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor tomorrow." He popped another piece in his mouth.

The Slytherin frowned, uncertain why Dumbledore was delivering him this news. He could have easily found out tomorrow. "What happened to Professor Lupin?"

"He's sickness has gotten worse. As you know, he's been sick for some time now. He'll be taking a few days to get better."

At those words, something bubbly and unsettling churned in Tobias's stomach. He remembered how pale Lupin looked when Black had broken into the castle. He didn't even look angry, just pale—as if something was bothering him. And now this.

* * *

He fell on all fours, wheezing heavily as fingers grew longer. Sharper. _Hairier._ He groaned in agony, his nails digging into the hardwood floor as his back cracked and expanded. He could feel his hair growing uncontrollably, spreading to every part of his body. His _new_ body. He could feel his senses becoming sharper. He could smell everything. The smell of old wood as he broke the foundation of the room. The smell of old sheets—a dog, a rat, a stag.

He buried his head in the carpet, groaning once more. His nails sunk in deeper as the pain increased. He could feel his bones popping in and out of place, his teeth reshaping themselves. His tongue watering, his conscious leaving.

 _No. Control, Control._

He rolled on his back, screaming in agony as the transformation took its final turn. He could feel his muscles intensifying. His shirt was slowly torn apart. All his feelings converged into one— _hungry._ One last scream and it was done. It was over.

It stood on two legs, breathing heavily at its surroundings. They were familiar. It sunk back down to all fours— _home._ It thought. It hopped on the bed, recognizing the familiar smell. As it settled on the old bed, a whimper of sadness could be heard. Where were the rest? The rat. The dog. The stag. They were supposed to be here to.

 _They aren't coming._ Another whimper, and then a low, terrifying growl. It could smell the rat. It was close, but why wasn't he here? Why was he hiding?

 _He's here? But where? Where is he?_

Another growl and the creature sat up, staring at the glowing full moon floating from the window. Its eyes grew wider, and finally it released a long, ear-piercing howl.

"ARH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

As the days drew closer to Saturday, the weather began to worsen. The rain wouldn't let up. It rained nights. It rained mornings. It rained mid-mornings and mid-nights. Some people were under the impression it had to do with the dementors or the fact that Sirius Black was still lurking about the castle. Some people even had the idea to pin it on Professor Trelawney, who hadn't stopped making life-threatening "predictions" since Monday.

With everything going on, Quidditch was the only normal thing Draco had left— and now that was being altered. You could believe that the Malfoy heir was royally pissed.

"How did this happen?" Adrian Pucey asked, looking as furious as Draco did.

"Hell if I know." Flint grunted, his fingers curling and uncurling as he paced the room. "All I know is that Professor Snape walked up to me and told me that we wouldn't be playing Gryffindor for the first match."

Alex seemed upset as well. Draco didn't blame her. Her first game was set for Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, the biggest game of the season. Now it had been sabotaged.

"Who are we playing? Tobias asked. The blonde Slytherin scoffed at his questions. Did it honestly matter? Either way they were screwed.

"Hufflepuff." Flint said through gritted teeth. He growled, knocking over a chair. "Fucking Wood. He's just scared to play in this weather, that's all."

"He picked a grand time to go chicken on us." Adrian said sarcastically. "Hufflepuff just gained a new Captain and Seeker. Bloke's name is Cedric Diggory. He's changed Hufflepuff's style completely."

"And we've only practiced Gryffindor plays." Draco sighed.

"Come on you guys," Tobias exclaimed, refusing to be pessimistic about the situation. Quidditch was the only thing that didn't have the word "problem" written on it. He wasn't about to let it happen now. "Hufflepuff is a pushover. They have _always_ been pushovers. New seeker or not, we've got this."

"I haven't even seen them fly." Flint grumbled, obviously ignoring Tobias's small speech. "We're under completely different playing conditions." He looked towards Adrian. "How good is he?"

Adrian sighed. "He's good. And I mean _really_ good."

"Then we have to be on our A-game." Flint said, holding his head up confidently. "Pushovers or not, we can't let our guard down. We _have_ to win. Gryffindor is trying to sneak their way to the cup and we can't have that. _I_ can't have that."

* * *

Ron slapped the new issue of the _Daily Prophet_ on the table during breakfast. The other five crowded around it, their eyes glued to the headline story.

 **SHRIEKING SHACK STRIKES AGAIN: THE HOWLING RETURNS.**

"'The Howling Returns'?" Theodore said disgustingly. "Sounds like a bad movie."

"Or a clue to Sirius Black." Ron said, pointing to a paragraph in the middle of the article. "Look. Read here."

Hermione read the excerpt. " _Several days after the Hogwarts Halloween break-in, the familiar and creepy howling returns to Hogsmeade's very own Shrieking Shack. It has been fifteen years since the last incident of the mysterious howls, giving the house its infamous name. Some can't help to wonder is this the work of notorious murderer, Sirius Black?"_

Tobias sat there, listening to Hermione read the article. A part of him wanted to be intrigued. Black's escape from Hogwarts. Professor Lupin's sickness. The "howls" returning back to the Shrieking Shack. For some reason, they all seemed to fit like a puzzle in his head, but he ignored them.

"You seem awfully quiet." Said Theo, who was staring at him from across the table.

The other boy shrugged. "Not interested." At this, Hermione stopped reading. Draco, Neville, and Ron stared at him as if he was a different person. Tobias's nonchalant expression didn't falter, however.

Draco frowned. "You're not interested?"

"Dumbledore told me that Black wasn't after me that night on Halloween. He and the professors believe he was after the Sword of Gryffindor."

The five looked at each other, and then back at Tobias. Despite the obvious holes in Dumbledore's confession, Tobias seemed strangely relieved.

"And you believed him?" Ron said skeptically. Tobias shrugged again.

Neville scratched the back of his neck. "Did he at least tell you what Black wanted the sword for?"

"No." Tobias said lightly.

"Tobias," Hermione said, biting her lip. She wasn't sure why Tobias was acting so disinterested in Sirius Black now. During the summer, he seemed destined to find out why Black had broken out of prison and why the ex-con was coming after him. "I think Dumbledore may have lied to you."

"He knows that." Draco said, his eyes never leaving his cousins. "The question is: Why are you not worried?"

Tobias scooped some eggs onto his plate. "Whether Dumbledore lied about the sword or not, it's obvious that Black's target isn't me anymore. I have nothing to worry about."

"No," the blonde Slytherin said bluntly. "You don't have to worry about Black anymore. There is still another issue."

"The dementors I know, but—"

"But if Black continues to folly around the castle, the dementors will no longer tolerate Dumbledore's decree on keeping them out." His cousin continued. "They will get in Tobias, and if they can't find Black, they'll come after you."

Still unnerved by his cousin's words, Tobias stood up. "That's a big 'if.'" He grabbed his bag, making his way towards the Great Hall doors.

"Where are you going?" Theodore called after him.

"Class." Tobias called back, not turning around to address them. "Snape's subbing for Professor Lupin. I don't want to be late." No one could say anything else as the Great Hall doors slammed shut, leaving the remaining five sitting at the table in disbelief.

" _Snape?_ " Ron whispered. "What happened to Professor Lupin?"

Draco said nothing, his yes still focused on the doors of the Great Hall. He was trying to avoid Hermione's stare, but it was inevitable. She was worried about Tobias, as Draco was. Something wasn't right.

* * *

"Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." Snape said coolly. The DADA classroom was the darkest it had ever been. It was like Snape hated the light- and windows. But of course, it wasn't dark enough to where the students couldn't see their textbooks. Hermione obediently turned to the page, but frowned at the topic of today's lesson. _Werewolves._ She immediately raised her hand.

Snape stared at her, as if hoping she would challenge him. "Miss Granger? Is there an issue with today's lesson?"

"Uhh, no sir." Hermione began. "But it's just we haven't gotten this far yet, we've just finished grindylows."

"As I've seen. But grindylows are first-year creatures, surely you would've recognized that, Miss Granger. But as Professor Lupin maybe unaware of the grade-level scale of dark creatures, I am not. Page three hundred and ninety-four. _Now._ "

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but Draco stopped her, giving her a "let it go" look. The bushy- haired witch didn't look happy, but nevertheless, she didn't say anything else.

"Guess it would be a waste of time to ask what he's up to?" Theodore whispered to Tobias, but the Slytherin boy seemed unbothered by Snape's unusual lesson.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?"

Everyone was silent, even Hermione, though the witch was bursting to say the answer. Whatever game Snape was playing, it was obvious that he had it out for Professor Lupin. Hermione tried to see past his sinister behavior and tried to figure out what this was really about. Snape had helped them before in the past- maybe he was trying to give them a clue? But a clue to what? To Sirius Black? Or to Professor Lupin?

Snape sighed, a twisted smile appearing on his face. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"

"We told you," Theodore said. "We haven't gotten that far yet."

"Well, well, well," Professor Snape tutted. "I have never met a third-year class who wouldn't recognize a werewolf when they saw one."

 _When they saw one?_ Hermione thought. Shaking her head, she spoke again, and it was too late for Draco to stop her.

"Please sir, the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several ways. The snout of the werewolf—"

"I don't think I acknowledged you to speak, Miss Granger." Snape said, his voice chilling. "Or is it so difficult being an insufferable know-it-all that you can't follow the rules? Five points from Gryffindor."

Hermione's face went red then, and the other five boys (except Tobias) went into defensive mode. Ron was the first to speak, his face turning redder than Hermione's.

"You asked us a question and she knows the answer!" He roared.

Theodore nodded. "Why ask us a question if you don't want the answer?"

"Detention!" Snape shouted back, the class went silent once more. His eyes closed in on Ron and Theo. "And if I ever hear you two criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

The two boys went silent. Ron was fuming and so was Theodore. Draco had the glare of death in his eyes, rubbing Hermione's back as the tears began to form in her eyes. He thought Snape had been trying to tell them something before, trying to help them—but it seemed that this was just a jealous action against Professor Lupin.

The rest of the class was silent, everyone taking notes on the werewolf. Snape sat at Lupin's desk, browsing through the professor's personal notes—snorting every once and a while at certain pages.

Theodore watched as Tobias took his notes blissfully. As if nothing these past few months had happened. What was his deal? One minute he was obsessed with Sirius Black—he was even beginning to become suspicious of Professor Lupin. Now it was like he didn't care. Over some crap that Dumbledore told him. Theodore even knew that the headmaster was lying, so why was Tobias so content?

Finally the bell rung, and no one was surprised when Snape held the class back to assign them an essay on werewolves. Ron and Theodore had to stay after to arrange their detentions with Snape. The rest of them waited outside, where Draco finally expressed his opinions on Snape's lesson.

"He's holding one hell of a grudge," Draco spat. "He's never been that way to any of the other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, not even Lockhart."

Neville was angry too. "Why's he got it in for Lupin?" The boy went pale. "D'you think it's because of my boggart?"

Hermione was silent during their rant. Something was battering in her brain. She had caught something that no one else seemed to have caught during Snape's lesson. The potion's professor believed there was a werewolf in the castle. It was a bit of a stretch but that had to be it. And for some reason, she felt like she knew who it was. But that would be outrageous, no way Dumbledore would've—

"Granger?" Draco said, "You still here?"

The witch blinked. "Oh yes, I was just—nevermind. I just hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…" She then turned. "Tobias?"

But she frowned as she noticed that the black-haired Slytherin was already walking away to his next class. She sighed.

"He's really starting to piss me off." Draco grumbled.

The doors to the DADA classroom opened once more and an even redder Ron and Theodore stormed into the corridors.

"D'you know what that bastard—"

" _Ron!_ " Hermione cried.

"No, let him have it." Theodore said. "'Help us' my arse. I don't know what stunt he was trying to pull back there, Hermione, but it didn't seem like he was trying to warn us about something."

"What happened?" Neville asked.

"He gave us detention, that's what!" Ron spat. "We have to scrub out the bed pans in the hospital wing. _Without magic!_ "

Theodore huffed. "Is it too late to wish that Black hasn't left the castle and he's patiently waiting in Snape's office to kill him off?" He then looked around. "Oi! We're missing somebody."

"Tobias went to class." Draco said disappointedly, grabbing Hermione's bag and making his way down the corridor, the rest followed.

"He's been acting rather strange." Theodore said, the same disappointment in his voice. "It's like he's not affected by this stuff anymore. Not that I'm complaining, but ya know—after two years of solving mysteries and almost dying, you get used to it."

"Maybe it's not that isn't affecting him." Said Neville. "Maybe he doesn't want it to affect him."

"And that means what?" asked Ron.

Neville shrugged. "Think about all that's happened these past months. His grandfather's younger self tried to kill him. He found out that his grandfather has a son, which should be his true heir and not Tobias. His cousin has broken out of Azkaban and for the past few months, Tobias thought he was a target. And now the dementors and possibly Professor Lupin." Neville looked down at the ground. Nobody said anything as he spoke.

"If I was him, I would just want things to be normal for a minute."

* * *

It was 4:30 in the morning and Tobias found himself sitting in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room. He was already dressed in his Quidditch robes and had just finished polishing his black Nimbus 2001. Yet as the time passed, his mind stayed focused on one thing.

It wasn't excitement for the first Quidditch match of the year that kept him awake. It was Sirius Black. He thought he was over the whole situation when Dumbledore told him that Sirius Black wasn't after the Slytherin heir, but he was wrong. The moment he found out that Black was after something else was the moment Tobias realized that the old wizard was hiding something. But what was it? Tobias knew Dumbledore was lying about the Sword of Gryffindor—there was no logical reason for Sirius Black to want it. So what did the ex-con want so badly that he ripped the Fat Lady's portrait to shreds?

And that was the question that made knots twist in his stomach. He had three friends who stayed in Gryffindor Tower. He couldn't help but think that Sirius Black may have been after them—or something that belongs to them that could help him get to Tobias. He closed his eyes, stopping the anxiety that was rising inside of him. _No._ He thought. Dumbledore said Black didn't find what he was looking for.

 _No._ The voice inside his head said once more. _Dumbledore said Black didn't find the Sword of Gryffindor._

It was an endless game. And for days Tobias tried to shut all his thoughts out. He tried to make it seem like he didn't care, or that he was uninterested, but the truth was everything these last few months had been eating him alive. The Chamber of Secrets, his grandfather's son, Sirius Black, the Grim, the dementors, Professor Lupin. All of it played in his head like a broken record—one after the other. It was overwhelming. It was so overwhelming that even though he knew Dumbledore was lying, he took the first opportunity to try to make his life normal. To seem as if everything was okay—like it was when he first arrived at Hogwarts. When all he had to worry about was keeping Theo out of trouble and getting his school work done. But it seemed like those days were over now, no matter how hard the Slytherin tried to bring them back. Everything was changing, and for some reason, Tobias had an uneasy feeling that it may be changing for the worse.

That's why he had been looking forward to today's match. Out of all the things that were going wrong, Quidditch seemed to have dodged the bullet. Tobias couldn't wait for that adrenaline to pump through his veins as he went for the snitch. The feeling of the wind whipping against his face, wiping every worry from his mind. All his problems would fall to the ground as he sat on his broom suspended in the air. And even when the match was over, he wouldn't have to come down. For once, he would be able to feel normal.

* * *

Theodore waited for Neville outside of the Gryffindor common room. Though Neville had been in the Slytherin common room plenty of times in the past two years, Theodore wasn't ready to make that step into the Lion's Den yet. However, he was growing impatient as more and more Gryffindors left the tower, all of them dressed in raincoats and house-colored ponchos. No doubt they were heading towards the Quidditch pitch. Theodore groaned—any longer and they would have missed the match.

"About time!" The boy said as Neville stepped out but immediately frowned as he noticed what Neville was holding in his hand. "Uh, why do you have Hermione's cat?"

"It was trying to sneak into the boy's dormitory on my way out." Neville said, setting Crookshanks down on the floor. Theodore eyed the cat, thinking about a particular rat that had been hiding in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory for a month now.

"Ya know," Theodore said suspiciously to Crookshanks. "I think Ron might've been right about you."

Neville nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. There are plenty of mice in the castle, yet he just wants Scabbers."

As if it could hear what they were saying, Crookshanks hissed at them. The cat then turned from the two boys and trotted away. Theodore and Neville looked at each other before shrugging and continuing towards the great staircase.

They walked in the Great Hall, finding the chamber divided into colors of green and yellow. Theodore was slightly disappointed that Slytherin wasn't playing Gryffindor anymore. In weather like this, it would've been one hell of a match. Neville, on the other hand, seemed relieved. From the looks of the enchanted ceiling, the storm was getting worse. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor was always a dangerous match, but even if the two teams weren't trying to knock each other's heads off, the storm sure would.

The two walked towards the end of the Gryffindor table, where they found Hermione and Ron sitting down. Tobias and Draco had moved to the Slytherin table to eat with the rest of the team. Neville noticed that Hermione seemed to be deep in thought—she had barely touched her breakfast. But Ron, as always, was eating away as if this was the last meal he would have at Hogwarts.

"You alright, Hermione?" Neville asked.

She looked up as if Neville was just another voice in her head. She blinked, quickly dropping her fork and acknowledging the two boys. "Oh, yes. I'm fine."

Theodore sat down, scooping some porridge in his bowl. "You don't look like it."

"She's worried about the match." Ron said through a mouthful of food. "She thinks Dumbledore should cancel it because of the storm. Rubbish."

Neville raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the bushy- haired witch. This was usually the time where Hermione would explain her reasoning, but instead, she was silent. She didn't even bother arguing against Ron. That made Neville feel like it was something else bothering Hermione, but he decided to leave it alone. For now.

"Oh, they'll be fine, Hermione." Theodore said, but the witch barely heard him. Her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table, where they landed on Blaise Zabini. He looked as he did a few days ago when he confronted her in the alcove—lost and angry. Something was happening to him, that she knew for sure. His memories were being changed, but how? And from the looks of it, his condition was getting worse. He seemed more erratic than usual—the way he grabbed her in the corridor. For once, Hermione was afraid of him. But it wasn't because of him, it was because he wasn't being him. Though she hated to admit it, Blaise Zabini wasn't behaving as Blaise Zabini. He seemed desperate and out-of-control instead of his usual snobbish and manipulative self.

"You coming?"

Hermione blinked, her eyes focusing on the three boys standing in front of her. Neville was putting on his rain coat, while Theodore and Ron already had their green ponchos on. Theodore's strings were pulled to the breaking point, making the boys head look like a small pea. Hermione nodded, pulling on her raincoat as well. She followed the boys out of the Great Hall, but not before turning to look at Zabini once more.

* * *

The team was silent as they put on their green and silver Quidditch robes. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of thunder and the rough winds from the storm. Flint was unusually quiet. He sat at the back of the locker room, his head in his hands. When the boy looked up, making eye contact with Tobias, he nudged his head towards Alex, who seemed to be shaking uncontrollably. The Slytherin seeker had forgotten about her—this would be her first Quidditch game. Not only that, but her first Quidditch game in the rain—they weren't even prepared.

Everyone stopped their motions as the loud cheers from the stands could be heard. Adrian slapped on his knee-pads, his eyes falling on Flint.

"Hufflepuff just walked out, Cap." He said. "Time's up."

The Slytherin Captain stood up, grabbing his broom. He marched passed the rest of the team, leading the way onto the Quidditch pitch. As they came into view, the screams intensified. A sea of green cheered and whooped behind them as they stepped onto the field, but Tobias could barely hear them over the booming claps of thunder.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the bright yellow uniforms standing on the other side of the pitch. At their center was Cedric Diggory. He was bigger than most seekers and he walked with a sort of grace—as if he was Hogwarts's white knight. The two Captains met at the center of the field and shook hands. Draco snorted as Diggory passed a smile at Flint, but the Slytherin captain's face did not change. They dropped hands at the sound of Madam Hooch's words.

"Mount your brooms."

Tobias mounted his Nimbus 2001, feeling the mud squelching under his boots. There was a silence, and as the lighting crackled through the sky, the whistle was blown and the came had begun.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" announced Lee Jordan.

Tobias could barely see anything once he rose above the ground. He was already soaked and his uniform was sticking to his skin. He tried to look out for Draco's blonde hair, but it was no use. It seemed that he would have to look for the snitch himself. He flew back and forth, barely able to see where he was going—but he had no idea where the snitch could have been. For a second, he was afraid that Diggory had already spotted it, but was relieved when he saw a glimpse of yellow on the other side of the field.

Draco was growing frustrated with the game. He couldn't see and it seemed like everyone else was having the same issue. He had almost been hit with a bludger— _twice_. He had no idea what was going on, flying past blurry figures of green and yellow. He had made a couple of goals—thank Salazar for that, but it was getting harder and harder to play. The sky was getting darker and the professors had resulted in casting large lumos spells above the pitch. Draco was relieved when he heard Madam Hooch's whistle blow and Flint summoning the rest of the team to his location.

Draco settled down right next to Tobias, who seemed frustrated with the game as well.

"I called a time- out." Flint said as he led the team under a giant umbrella. "Tobias, have you seen the snitch?"

Tobias shook his head. "No. I can't see anything out there to be quite honest."

"Dammit." Flint said under his breath.

"What's the score?" asked Alex Darcy. She seemed way smaller now that she was soaking wet. Her hair was sticking to her face and Tobias could see the outline of her little arms through her soaked uniform.

Flint sniffed, wiping rainwater from his brow. "We're fifty points up. But Madam Hooch is talking about ending the game early. Unless we find the snitch…"

He stopped and the whole team turned around when they noticed he was staring at something. Tobias and Draco were the most surprised to see Hermione standing under the umbrella with them, holding a pair of goggles in her hand.

"Granger." Draco said. " _What are you doing?_ "

The witch ignored him, walking through the team and straight to Tobias. She put the goggles in his hands.

"I put a spell on them—they will repel the water and help you see better in the rain."

Nobody said anything and Flint looked as if he wanted to hug the Gryffindor witch.

"Well," He said, bringing the team's attention back to him. "Let's go kick some ass."

"AND SLYTHERIN IS RETURNING FROM THEIR TIME-OUT. THE SCORE IS STILL 40 TO 90. SLYTHERIN UP."

Tobias kicked back into the air and was amazed by Hermione's work. He felt like he was playing Quidditch in normal conditions. He could see everyone. He saw Draco score another goal and one of the Hufflepuff players almost fall off their broom. He also saw Cedric Diggory frantically searching for the snitch. This brought Tobias's head back into the game. There was another flash of lighting and a clap of thunder. He needed to find the snitch fast—it wouldn't be long until Madam Hooch decided to end the match.

He looked around the field—his eyes darting to every familiar location where he remembered spotting the snitch. He felt like his eyes were moving 50 times a second, but his searching stopped. There was another crack of lighting and what he saw next made him freeze in his spot. His breath caught as he saw the silhouette of a shaggy black dog—the same shaggy black dog from Theo's and the same shaggy black dog from the teacup session in Divination. He blinked, only to find that the dog was now gone.

"Tobias!" He heard Draco yell, and the boy turned to look at his cousin. The boy was pointing at something, and for a minute, Tobias thought he had seen the dog, too. But he was wrong.

"Behind you!" Draco hollered. "Diggory!"

Tobias blinked again, whipping his broom around to find Diggory zooming up the field- something small and gold speeding in front of him. The snitch. Without thinking, Tobias pressed himself against his broom and zoomed towards the scene. He needed to get to the snitch.

" _Come on._ " He growled. " _Come on! Faster!_ "

He could feel his Nimbus 2001 picking up speed and as he and Diggory flew higher from the pitch, he could hear the sound from below drowning out as well. He couldn't hear the thunder, or the wind, or even the cheers and gasps from the stands. It was like someone had put the world on mute. Tobias tried to ignore it but lost as that familiar icy feeling seeped into his chest. _No. Not here. Not now._

He didn't want to look down, but he knew what was down there. He could feel them. Hundreds of them. Dementors—they were coming for him. He leaned harder, trying to push his broom to the maximum speed, but though he tried—it felt like he was slowing down. He could no longer see Diggory. He could no longer see the clouds, only the darkness. And somewhere deep inside his conscious, he could hear it. Like it was fighting to the surface of his memory. A voice he had heard once in a dream…a woman…screaming…

" _Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

Then there was a voice he recognized, more than he wanted to admit.

 _"Stand aside, you silly girl….stand aside, now…"_

 _"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"_

He felt something take over him. Fear. Helplessness. He felt the broom underneath him, but why was he flying? He wanted to help her—he needed to save her. She was going to be murdered—he was going to murder her. He couldn't let it happen—he could save her. He knew he could. But the next moment, he felt himself falling through the dark, icy mist…

 _"Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…"_

He tried to fight it, but the darkness was stronger than him. He could hear the familiar, menacing laughter in the background. There was once final scream, and then silence. All that was left was darkness.

* * *

Blaise opened his eyes and once again found himself in the hospital wing. It had happened— _again._ Not his memories. The dementors. One moment he was watching the game, another moment everything went dark. He could still feel that ice filling his lungs—the feeling of happiness drifting away. And that familiar voice piercing his brain—fighting to be free.

 _"KILL ME! JUST KILL ME!"_

He sat up and met eyes with Tobias LeStrange. It was still dark outside, but it seemed the darkness was coming from the fact that it was night. He couldn't see much, only what the moonlight allowed him to see, which unfortunately was LeStrange. Blaise immediately wanted to lay back down, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. They were alone—both in the hospital for the same reason.

"We lost the game." LeStrange said, breaking the silence. "Diggory caught the snitch when I fell."

"I don't care." Blaise said.

But LeStrange seemed to not hear him. "My broom is destroyed, Flint is pissed, and I just ruined our chances of winning the Quidditch cup." Blaise didn't say anything. If anything, the sound of LeStrange complaining made him furious. Was that all he cared about?

"They said Dumbledore was furious. Especially when he found out that you we're affected as well."

Blaise gritted his teeth. "Is there something you want to ask me, LeStrange?"

"What's happening to us?"

The tan Slytherin went silent at this question. All his rage went away with his silence. It was the question he had been asking himself all this time—growing frustrated as he never found the answer. What was happening to them? Out of all the students in Hogwarts, the dementors chose them to prey on. Blaise Zabini and Tobias LeStrange. Enemies since the day they met. They were tied together with so many things—they were in the same house, the same classes, they were both heirs, and now this.

"Nothing is happening to me." Blaise said coldly.

Tobias stared at the boy across from him. He had never seen Zabini like this. Weak and defenseless. Helpless. Zabini always found his way out of trouble—whether it was through his lies or his wit. But this he couldn't escape. All this time he had forgotten about Zabini and that the dementors were affecting him too. And though he tried to hide it, Tobias could see the fear in his eyes. It was the same fear that he was feeling as well.

"I'm scared too." Said Tobias, frowning as Blaise snorted. "We've been enemies for too long, Blaise. Something's happening to us—and we should be the ones to figure it out before it's too late. The both of us. Together."

Blaise wanted to laugh at the boy. At this pathetic attempt to make amends. Had this just been Blaise's problem, LeStrange wouldn't have tried to step in—he wouldn't have thought about helping him.

"We could go to Dumbledore, he could—"

"Do you know why I hate you, LeStrange?" Blaise interrupted.

Tobias stopped, blinking as if he hadn't heard Zabini's question correctly. Their eyes stayed locked, and Blaise looked calm—as if this was the moment he had been waiting for. Tobias didn't move, he didn't respond. It was something about how Blaise said it—when he said it. Why bring it up now? The Slytherin boy was trying to make amends. He was trying to get them help.

"Nobody seems to care when a normal student is injured or hurt." The tan Slytherin continued. "For Madam Pomfrey, it's just another day on the job. But when it involves you, the world just stops. It's all about Tobias LeStrange now."

"You know what I heard? I heard Dumbledore ran onto the field to stop you from falling as I passed out in the stands. Nobody knew what was happening to me until you were already taken into the hospital wing."

There was a deafening silence between them. Tobias didn't know what to say—he felt his insides twist. His throat went dry.

"The world revolves around you, LeStrange." Blaise continued, his voice never faltering. "And I thought I hated you because of that. But I actually hate you because you don't care about the people you drag into your mess. Only until it's too late. We're all just collateral damage."

Blaise could see Tobias tensing up before him. "That isn't true."

"Isn't it? You fret over the fact that your life can never be normal, but our lives can't be normal with you in it. You're not trying to help me because you care about me—you hate me, LeStrange. Just as much as I hate you—I can see it in your eyes. You try to hide it but you can't. But I can see it—you're only helping me because you feel like it's a step towards normalcy. But what about everyone's lives you've affected? We won't go back to being normal."

Blaise laughed mockingly. "You have _everything,_ and yet it still isn't enough. Stop being a pity case and do something for yourself. Fight against the dementors. _Kill_ Sirius Black. You wait for Dumbledore to save you when you're the Heir to Lord Voldemort. You're pathetic. You don't deserve to be an heir. You never have."

Blaise didn't give Tobias a chance to say anything back. He laid back down, turning on his side as he fell back asleep—or at least that's what Tobias thought he did. For the most part, the dark-haired Slytherin was speechless. This whole time he had been running from everything, though deep inside he knew he couldn't. Everything that Blaise said just gave him confirmation. Things would never be normal for him—things would never be normal for the people around him because of him. But he knew he could do something about it. He got out of bed despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey said they wouldn't be dismissed until morning. He walked down the corridors, his destination set in his mind. As he walked Zabini's words played throughout his mind.

 _But when it involves you the world just stops…I heard Dumbledore ran onto the field….you're only helping me because you feel like it's a step towards normalcy…We're all just collateral damage._

The torturing stopped when Tobias reached Professor Lupin's office. He knocked and his stomach twisted when he heard the familiar voice say "come in." He stepped inside, finding Professor Lupin sitting at his desk. He looked better, but there was something off-putting about him. There were scars on his face and his hair was unkempt and matted.

"Tobias." Lupin said, his tone surprised and worried. "Madam Pomfrey said you wouldn't be released until tomorrow morning."

"I want you to teach me." Tobias said bluntly. Lupin seemed taken back—Tobias assumed he had never been addressed this way before by a student. "I want you to teach me how to stop the dementors."

 **Author's Note: A Storm is coming Mister LeStrange. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	50. POA12: The Secrets Behind the Madness

**And I'm back! No I have not abandoned this story, I've just been busy lately. So, ahem, here is the longest chapter I've written thus far. Just for you guys! Enjoy!**

If you point a gun, at my rising son

Though we're not the one

But in bounds of your mind

We have done the cry

~ Boogieman x Childish Gambino

Chapter 50: The Secrets Behind the Madness

The storm was still in full effect as the members of the Order arrived at the House of Black. The weather seemed to match the mood. Everyone looked either worried or furious—Dumbledore looked like a mixture of both. Nobody noticed that Lupin hadn't arrived yet. Well, everyone except Snape, whose eyes were locked on the empty seat next to Tonks, where Remus usually sat. The room was dark—the only light coming from the oil lamp placed in the middle of the table. The Order sat in silence, each one trapped in their own thoughts. But it was obvious who the center was—Tobias LeStrange. Harry Potter.

"Dumbledore, we have to catch him." Molly Weasley said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We have to catch him before this gets worse."

Mad-Eye grunted. "It's already gotten worse. Had we changed the timeline earlier, we might have prevented this." He took a swig from his flask, Molly frowning as he smacked his lips. "Something bad is coming. I can feel it."

Arthur Weasley frowned. "The last thing we need right now, Alastor, is your paranoia poisoning the pool."

"Mad-Eye's right." Kingsley said, causing Arthur's frown to sink even deeper. "Things have been strange at the Ministry. Talia Zabini been so focused on Hagrid's case, it's like she has completely forgotten that her son is a target for the dementors. And then there's Lucius."

Snape's attention was caught at the name 'Lucius.' The black-eyed man was barely paying attention to the conversation happening around him. His mind was still set on Lupin—his eyes had never left the empty seat. Where was he?

"What about Lucius?" Tonks asked, and Arthur Weasley nodded.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Word is he has been visiting Azkaban frequently. For what reason, nobody knows." The man then looked towards Snape. "Have you heard anything from Voldemort?"

"No." Snape shook his head. "To be honest, nobody has heard from the Dark Lord in months. It's like he has given up—with his sickness and all."

Arthur snorted. "That didn't stop him from going after the Philosopher's Stone."

"Maybe he's found something else." Said Tonks.

Mad-Eye grunted again. "Not likely. When the Longbottom boy destroyed the diary in the Chamber of Secrets, he also destroyed all Voldemort's chances of healing."

"So you think he is dying?" Molly Weasley asked.

"It's possible—either way, Voldemort being this quiet isn't a good sign. Lucius making field trips to Azkaban every other day isn't either."

"And what about the Zabini boy?" Kingsley asked, his question directed towards Dumbledore. "Do you think his time-traveling has something to do with this? I've been thinking…is it possible that the boy maybe the reason the dementors are sticking around, and not Sirius Black?"

Everyone turned to look at Dumbledore, who, per usual, hadn't said anything for most of the meeting. The headmaster was silent at Kingsley's question—with all the anger that was coursing through him, it was hard to find the right words. For one, he agreed with Mad-Eye, no matter how paranoid the wizard sounded. Something was coming—the old wizard could feel it, too. But was it because of Zabini, or was it because of Sirius's escape? They could never know—all he knew that it would only get worse from here, and that they would need to change the timeline soon, before it was too late.

"Professor?" Kingsley repeated.

Dumbledore sighed, adjusting his spectacles. "We can't be sure if this is an effect from the time paradox—but if it is, Mad-Eye is right. This is only the beginning." He then stood up. "If you all hear anything else, alert me immediately."

"Where are you going?" Snape said, standing up as well. He didn't like the vibe he was receiving from Dumbledore. It was a vibe he felt when the headmaster was hiding something. It made his insides twitch—nobody knew _everything_ about the old wizard, not even Severus, who felt as if he was the closest to Dumbledore. He felt something wash over him when he caught the headmaster's eyes land on Lupin's empty seat.

"Hogwarts." Dumbledore said innocently, as if he had no agenda in mind. "I must check on LeStrange and Zabini, to make sure they are alright."

The old wizard then grabbed his cloak and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the remaining Order members alone. Each person then left one by one—the Weasleys first, then Tonks, then Mad-Eye and Kingsley. The only person left now was Snape. He knew deep down that Dumbledore was right—that it would only get worse from here. This year wasn't like the previous year—where there was only one issue. Voldemort. This year was different. Problem after problem. Time Travel. Dementors. Hagrid. Lucius. Voldemort's Silence. And what made everything worse, there were no solutions. Quirrell said no. The dementors won't go away until Sirius is caught and the Order had no lead on where Sirius was. There was nothing they could do about Hagrid's case until the Ministry sent them a response. No one knew what Lucius was up to, and Snape was sure that the blonde-haired man wouldn't tell him the truth, especially since what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. And Voldemort was the most secretive person Snape had ever met. If the Dark Lord did not want you to know, then you wouldn't know.

It made the man's stomach curl with anxiety. What was next?

* * *

"Tobias." Lupin said slowly, staring into the boy's green eyes. "Madam Pomfrey said you wouldn't be released until morning. You should be in bed."

"Not until you agree to teach me how to stop the dementors." The boy said firmly. Remus stared at him carefully. In his eyes, he could see Lily's fire burning in them. Instead of the red flames of Voldemort, he could see the green fiery flames dancing fiercely in Tobias's eyes. They danced softly, but with a routine that Remus knew quite well. The same routine that he saw in James. He knew at this moment that the boy in front of him would not be taking "no" for an answer.

"This is about what happened at the Quidditch match, isn't it?" The professor asked, his gaze never leaving the Slytherin standing in his doorway. "The dementors…. I suppose they were the reason you fell?"

Tobias nodded, but then a question sunk into his chest, causing it to tighten with anger and bitterness. He balled his fist, thinking about Hufflepuff winning the game, and his broomstick smashing into pieces. " _Why?_ "

Lupin looked confused. "Why what?"

"Why do they affect me like that? I'm supposed to be an heir. My grandfather taught me everything I needed to know about dueling, and yet they…." The boy grew silent, his hands shaking.

"You see yourself as weak?"

Tobias was hesitant, and then he nodded.

Lupin's face then turned into one of seriousness. Tobias had almost wished he hadn't answered, but it was the truth. And if he wanted Professor Lupin to help him, he knew that lying wouldn't get him the help he needed.

"This has nothing to do with weakness." Professor Lupin said sharply. "The dementors only affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have."

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself…soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Tobias, I assume is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

Tobias didn't say anything, but something about Lupin's speech about dementors sparked his memory. He remembered the voice he heard as he fell. The first time he passed out he remembered he only heard one. A woman's. A woman he had seen once in a dream. But this time there was a second voice, a voice he knew without a doubt. His grandfather. He was about to murder someone name Harry—maybe it was her son. The woman wanted Voldemort to murder her instead…she wanted to save the boy named Harry. But Voldemort did not care…Tobias shivered as he remembered his grandfather's shrill laughter.

Professor Lupin frowned. "Is there something wrong, Tobias?"

"When they get near me—" The boy said slowly, and Remus could tell he was fighting with himself. The Professor only hoped that Tobias would decide to tell him the truth.

"When they get near me—I can hear a woman screaming."

"A woman?"

"I know it sounds strange professor, but she is who I heard the first time. On the train. And I've feel like I've seen her before. In a dream—or maybe in real life."

Remus felt his stomach trying knots. How had he not thought of it before?

"And this time." The Slytherin continued, his eyes leaving Remus's gaze. "I heard my grandfather, too. He was going to murder her."

"Do you know why?"

"She was protecting a boy named Harry. My grandfather wanted to murder him instead, but the woman wouldn't let him. And in the end, Voldemort murdered her."

There was a silence. A deafening silence. A sickening silence. How had Remus not thought of it before? That it was the murder of his parents that was attracting the dementors to Tobias? All this time he had assumed it was something that Voldemort did that made his godson a victim, but it had been this all along.

"Why did they have to come to the match?" Tobias said bitterly. Their gazes met once more, and Remus could see the pain in Tobias's eyes. He wondered if the boy could see his pain, too. If Tobias realized that he had heard the voice of one of Remus's closest friends and the man who murdered her. The knots in his stomach pulled tighter, but despite Tobias's ignorance towards the situation, Lupin knew he could not leave the boy with those horrible memories.

"They're getting hungry." He said simply, trying to force down the sickness in his throat. "With Dumbledore against letting them inside the school, their supply of human prey has dried up. No doubt they couldn't resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All those students…the excitement….you could say we laid out a feast for them."

The boy nodded. "So how do I stop them? Like how you stopped them on the train."

Lupin sighed once more. "There are—certain defenses you can use. But mind you, I only stopped one on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resists."

"I don't care." Tobias said, his tone firming once more. "I want to be able to fight them. Whether it's stopping them at a Quidditch match, or protecting my friends from them. I could—I could event show Zabini how to stop them."

"Zabini? From what I've heard, you two aren't the best of friends."

"We're not. But he is being affected, too. I just don't think it would be fair if I knew how to stop them and he didn't."

Remus hesitated, his eyes focusing into Tobias's once more. The boy was focused, determined, but it was different type. This wasn't the usual Slytherin ambition. This was something different, something more than the Heir of the Dark Lord. This wasn't Tobias LeStrange. This was Harry Potter.

"Well…alright." He said, his heart warming when the boy's eyes lit up in response. "I will try and help. But it will have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. With me just now returning from my sickness, I have a lot to catch up on before the holidays."

The boy nodded. "Understandable. I'll see you next term." The boy then turned away, but Remus wasn't ready for him to leave just yet. This was the first sign of James and Lily that he had seen in the boy since he had arrived at Hogwarts. If anything, he wanted to make it meaningful.

"Tobias." He called out, and the Slytherin third-year stopped in his tracks.

"Sir?"

Tobias turned around, and for the last time that night, Remus saw the green flames dancing in his eyes. He saw Lily, he felt James. And in that moment he knew what he was doing was the right thing.

"Nothing." He said slowly. "You just…you remind of someone I used to know. An old friend."

He could tell that Tobias didn't know how to respond to this statement. What could he say? Lupin said nothing else as the Slytherin nodded with a small smile and walked out of his office. As he watched the boy walk away, he finally understood what Sirius saw.

* * *

For the next few days, Blaise Zabini found himself in a state of anxiety. Everyone now knew that he was also being affected by the dementors, and he was receiving a smaller, but similar, treatment as LeStrange. Of course, he hated it. No one had ever paid this much attention to him before, and though it seemed he always fought for the spotlight, he was not particular fond with this type of attention.

Crabbe and Goyle were on him like hawks. Everywhere he went, they were there. He felt suffocated between the two. If it wasn't Crabbe it was Goyle. Each one taking the proper "precautions" so that Blaise wouldn't get attacked again by the dementors. But little did they know-if the grim reaper like creatures wanted Blaise, it would take more than two burly third- year idiots to stop them. They were wasting their time, but who was Blaise to care? At least they had enough time to waste.

Despite the dementor attack aftermath, the tan Slytherin had been looking more into his time-travel "problem." Ever since his confrontation with Granger, he knew he was on his own now. Whatever help he needed he would have to get it himself. So he went to the first place he figured Granger would go if she had agreed to help him—the library.

After hours of book searching, Zabini had become frustrated with the lack of books the library had on time travel. Even the restricted section was low on information. How was he supposed to fix his problem when he didn't even know what _exactly_ his problem was? The fact that he had no solution irked his soul. Had this been LeStrange's problem, the portal of answers would have just opened up for him.

But little did Blaise Zabini know that his hunt for answers was coming to a revelation. After another night of rummaging through the library, the tan Slytherin found himself taking a detour to the Slytherin dungeons. He wasn't ready to face defeat once more. He wasn't ready to lay down in his bed, only to close his eyes and remember that he had found nothing useful to fix his problem. That he would wake up another day in fear of having another episode or being attacked by dementors. Though he had no choice, he wanted to wait a little longer.

The corridors were quiet and solemnly lit by the moonlight that shined through the castle windows. The only sounds that could be heard were Blaise's footsteps. He walked slowly, taking every step as an opportunity to come up with something new, to think of another idea. When he ran out of steps, realizing he was getting closer to the Slytherin dungeons, he would turn down another corridor, taking him in the opposite direction. By his fourth turn, he knew it had to be midnight and he finally decided to return to the Slytherin common room. Slowly accepting tonight's defeat, he made his way towards the castle dungeons. But he would not make it.

As he approached the last corridor, he felt someone grab his arm, pulling him into one of the castle alcoves. He quickly snatched his arm away, whipping out his wand to cast a lighting charm—his curse on the tip of his tongue, ready to defend himself against his attacker. But the moment never came, as the tan Slytherin met eyes with one Hermione Granger.

They stared at each other for a moment. Granger seemed calm—like yanking your worst enemy in a school alcove in the middle of the night was completely normal. Blaise, on the other hand, felt his nerves tingling. Like the answers he had been looking for were about to reveal themselves. That this was this moment. Midnight in an alcove with mudblood Hermione Granger.

"Well this is unusual behavior." The tan Slytherin drawled. "What would Malfoy say about this?"

The witch didn't even flinch, she didn't even turn red at Malfoy's name. _She knows what I'm doing._ Of course she does. But her eyes seemed so focused, so determined. It was like she didn't care about the consequences, and it piqued Blaise's interest even further.

"You changed time, didn't you?" She asked, and it made the blood freeze in Zabini's veins. How did she know? Was it obvious from the last time they spoke? Or had she figured it out? But—but how? The only things Granger knew about came from books. _Books._

Blaise didn't react to the question, but his insides were curling. "And if I did?"

"Then I could tell you that I know what's happening to you." Granger then went in her bag, pulling out a red and gold tattered book. Blaise put his wand to the cover, reading the title of the book. _The Art of Time Travel._ He almost snorted.

"So you're the reason why I couldn't find any information in the library?" He said, removing his wand from the book. He looked back at Granger, who was returning the book back inside her bag. "But the question is: Why did you check them out? This is obviously my problem, not yours."

The girl was silent, but then she spoke. "Why did you pull me into the alcove that day? Why did you show me your Time Master?"

"I…I…" Blaise started to say. "That was a mistake."

"Was it?"

The question hung in the air, but they both knew the answer. It wasn't a mistake that Blaise Zabini had went to Hermione Granger for help. The only mistake he made was losing his temper, possibly ending all chances of the Gryffindor witch providing her assistance. But admitting it to her? Admitting that he had actually gone to the mudblood for help? Merlin forbid.

"Let's say I did change time." He said, keeping his composure. "I assume there were consequences?"

Granger nodded. "I think you've realized the most obvious one. The dementor attacks. And there is another…"

"What is it?" The tan Slytherin said, his words impatient and hasty. He didn't even realize his tone.

"Not until you answer my questions." The witch said promptly. "Did you change time? Why did you pull me into that alcove? And why did you show me your Time Master?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "Don't speak to me as if you're my superior, Granger."

"Fine. But I'm the only one who has the information you need." She then turned to leave the alcove. Blaise was set on letting her leave, he didn't need her. He could just wait until she returned the books on time travel. And he could find out himself. But his conscience wouldn't let her go. It refused to let her walk away when she held all the answers to his issues. The battle of his pride was lost before he even heard the words come out his mouth.

"Wait!" He said suddenly. He hated the sudden feeling of relief that washed over him when he saw the Gryffindor stop. "I'll tell you."

Hermione stepped back into the alcove, her expression as calm as it was when she first pulled him in. Blaise could see the speck of victory in her eyes, and he had to repress a growl at the notion. He pulled out his wand again, casting a silencing charm on the alcove.

"What I am about to tell you, you will tell no one." He said, his voice dangerous and low. "I did change time. I pulled you into the alcove that day because something is happening to me and at the time I felt like you were the only one who could help me. Showing you my Time Master was a mistake, but if there was any hope in you helping me, I knew you needed to see it."

There was another silence. Blaise didn't know what was supposed to happen now. Would she help him? Was she even expecting this answer? The look on her face was indescribable. Was she lost in thought? Was she shocked? Did she even have the information he needed? The longer they stood there, the tighter Blaise's insides twisted. He had done enough waiting, he needed to know.

"Now tell me." He said, gripping his fists to keep from touching her. "What's happening to me?"

It was at this question that her eyes came back into focus, and there was that look of discovery that the Slytherin had seen when he pulled her into the alcove the first time. She knew something.

"You've created another timeline." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"According to the text, whenever you change something in time, whether the past or the future, you ultimately make alterations to the original timeline, thus creating a new timeline altogether."

Blaise frowned. "Original timeline?"

"The timeline you're from." He watched as Granger bit her lip, as if trying to find the right words to explain to him what was going on. Blaise rolled his eyes as she went inside her bag again, but instead of pulling out the red and gold book, she pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. Blaise responded to her action by lighting his wand once more.

"This…" The witch said as she drew a straight line across the parchment. "Is the original timeline." She then drew a diagonal line coming from the middle of the previous straight line. "And this is the alternate timeline. The one we are in now."

"And I…" The tan Slytherin said. "I couldn't have created that. I'm not the only one who has changed time, I'm sure."

"I thought the same, but then I remembered something." At those words, Blaise felt the dread sink into his veins. Of course it was him. This was his fault. And Granger was about to prove it.

"The night we confronted you in the hospital wing, you were upset about something that Tobias had done last term, but nobody remembered it. Only you."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "And this proves what? LeStrange—"

"Only you remember it," The witch interrupted him. "Because that event happened in your timeline—the original timeline. Not here."

"So you're saying…that…the memories I have aren't real?"

Granger shook her head. "No, they're real. But only to you."

"Because I'm from the original timeline?" asked the Slytherin, and Granger nodded.

"Had someone else changed the timeline, you would have no recollection of the original timeline. But because you do, it seems that your effect had a greater impact than others."

Another silence, and Blaise felt sick to his stomach. It was moments like this, where you found out all the answers to your questions- that you were supposed to be relieved. However, Blaise felt the burden on his shoulders gain weight. He was the cause of all this—the reason the dementors were after him, and probably LeStrange too. He was the reason Ginny didn't remember what happened last year in the Chamber of Secrets, or why his worst enemies didn't remember the one thing that set the course for his revenge against them. It was because he changed time. He created another timeline. And he was the only one who held the memories of the original timeline.

He swallowed, trying to piece everything together. "So the reason my memories are changing?"

"They aren't changing." Said the witch. "They're clashing. The memories of this timeline are forcing their way into your conscience, but you still have your old memories too."

"So I'm forced to remember a life I never lived?"

"Not exactly." She bit her lip again. "The longer you stay here, the more frequent the clashing will become. You will eventually forget your old memories, and in turn, forget that you even altered time to begin with. But those are the best case scenarios."

The boy scoffed. "Best case? Losing my memory is the best thing that can happen? I hate to ask what the worst is."

"The worst is death. Most wizards don't make it past the clashing stages—they either return to the original timeline or they die in the alternate."

"Okay. And how do I return to the original?"

"You would have to go back and fix what you changed."

The tan Slytherin felt a shiver run up his back, causing him the shudder slightly. His mind immediately went to his travels through time. He didn't want to return to that—he barely wanted to do it the first time.

"And if I don't?"

Granger closed her eyes. "Then things will get worse. Your memory clashes, the dementors, the alterations you made to time. When you went back in time, you just didn't change your life, you changed everyone's life. For all we know, you could've started another Wizarding War." She sighed. "It certainly feels like it."

Blaise couldn't deny that he felt the same way. There was too much happening—one problem after the next, and it didn't feel like it would be getting any better. But he knew one thing, he didn't want to go back to the original timeline. For one, he saved Ginny. And Ginny kissed him, well on the cheek, but that still had to count for something. Second, he was halfway to making Tobias LeStrange's life a living hell—something that he always failed doing in the original timeline. And three, he had the chance to start over. Nobody remembered how he was in the original timeline—and he could start anew here. But something in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't stay. That it wasn't safe to stay.

"What if I don't want to go back?" Blaise asked the witch before him. "What if I want to stay and help prevent those horrible things from happening? What if I can make it past the clashing stages?"

Granger crossed her arms. "What about your original memories?"

"From my experience, these memories are way better than my old ones, but I tend to pass out when the clashes happen. I don't suppose you've found a way to stop that?"

"No." Granger said softly, and Blaise saw what looked like a hint of surprise in her eyes. "I didn't expect you to want to stay. I thought you would have wanted to go back."

The tan Slytherin smiled a bit, but quickly regretted it. This was mudblood Granger, his enemy. But as she told him all this information, he realized—truly realized—what he had done. In creating another timeline, he had created a new life for everyone around him. That included Granger, who no doubt was shocked when she realized the life she had been living all this time wasn't real—but only an effect of Blaise's travels. Of course she expected him to leave—to not care about anybody else and return to his time. To erase the alternate Hermione Granger and everyone else from existence. But he wouldn't give the witch the satisfaction—he wanted to start new, well this was his chance.

"I guess you thought wrong, Granger." He said, with no hint of sarcastic venom in his voice. "I want to stay and fight against this. Would you help me?"

Hermione was speechless. In the span of ten minutes, it seemed that Blaise Zabini had turned into a completely different person. Not only did he open up to her about his time travels, but he wanted to stay. The Blaise Zabini she knew would have demanded that she help him return to his original time, not caring about the lives he was erasing in the process. The Blaise Zabini she knew wouldn't have done any of things that this Blaise Zabini was doing now. She couldn't help but wonder was this because he wasn't aware of how he was in this alternate timeline, or if he was genuinely this caring. Either way, it was against her moral code to not help someone in need.

"I'll help you." She finally said. Blaise was expecting the bushy-haired Gryffindor to say something else, but was proven wrong when she stepped out of the alcove, ending their conversation. He watched as she stepped out…her bushy hair flowing down her back, and through the strands he could see the gold chain of her time turner hanging from her neck. It could be that he was tired, or maybe he was grateful that Granger had agreed to help him, but he felt like he was seeing Hermione Granger for the first time.

"Granger!" He called after her, and he didn't feel that sickening relief he during his previous attempt. He barely felt his heart stop as she turned around.

"Hm?" She said lightly, her brown eyes meeting his.

"Um, thank you." He said, and he felt a weird warm feeling in his gut.

He could barely hold himself together when the witch turned around and smirked at him. "Meet tomorrow in the library." And with that she walked away. Blaise Zabini once again watched her go…as if she wasn't the mudblood he hated for the past two years. It still felt, weird of course, but he had made his decision. He would have to be different if he wanted to survive in the alternate timeline. And as he watched her go, he replayed her words in his head—finally catching the flaw in her statement.

"Wait!" He cried. "What time?" But she was already gone.

Too tired to hunt down Granger, he turned towards the Slytherin common room, sleepily saying the password and stepping inside. Once the wall shut behind him, two figures appeared out of the shadows.

"I told you, Pansy." Daphne said, her finger wrapped in one of her blonde curls. "Granger and Zabini have something going on."

Pansy still looked unconvinced. "Or maybe Zabini's blackmailing her into doing something she doesn't want to do."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh really? Did you not see her face? What about the fact that Zabini watched her walk away? Since when did Blaise Zabini find muggle-borns fascinating?"

"He was probably making sure that she left. Slytherin code remember? Don't trust anyone."

"Whatever," said the other girl, her mind set on the fact that Zabini and Granger might actually be a thing. "But I'm right and I know it. They're hiding something."

The blonde-haired girl then walked away, stepping inside the Slytherin common room. Pansy remained in the corridor, replaying the scene in her head. She fought against the fact that Daphne may actually be right. They both saw Hermione pull Zabini in the alcove, apparently the same alcove that Zabini had pulled her in a few weeks prior. Pansy couldn't hear what they were saying, only that they remained in that alcove for almost fifteen minutes. And their departure from each other…it was unusual. The Slytherin girl had expected the two sworn enemies to have expressions of true disgust on their face as they walked away from each other. Yet Granger seemed calm and Zabini looked like a completely different person. Whatever was going on between them, Pansy knew she had to find out soon. Especially before Daphne told the whole school, or even worse, before she told Draco.

* * *

It was two weeks before the end of the term and everyone had pretty much forgotten the Quidditch game dementor attack due to the announcement that there would be another Hogsmeade visit before the Christmas holidays. Tobias, of course, wasn't psyched about the news, seeing as he still wasn't allowed to go, but he was glad to see his friends occupied by something else other than his personal problems.

The Great Hall was decorated as usual for the Christmas Holiday. Hagrid had outdid himself with the amount of Christmas trees he'd set up around the great chamber. If anything, it felt like they were actually eating outside the castle than inside.

The six friends were sitting at their usual end of the Gryffindor table, trying to cherish the normality of the school before something else happened and screwed it all up. To Tobias's expense, the only thing they had to talk about that didn't involve dementors was Hogsmeade.

"We can all do our Christmas shopping there!" Hermione said excitedly. Tobias was glad to see she was excited about the visit. For the past couple of weeks, the Gryffindor witch seemed to be in over her head with the amount of school work she was receiving from her classes. She was barely spending time with the rest of the boys, isolating herself in the library after dinner. He knew this trip would be good for her, and he didn't want to ruin it.

"And I know exactly what I'm going to get you all." Theodore said, maliciously rubbing his hands together.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If it's going to be another beetle collection, you can save it."

"I wouldn't mind getting another one." Neville said sheepishly. Theo obnoxiously clapped his hands together while Draco rolled his eyes again.

"That's only because it's the only thing you have that can't injure you." Said Ron, causing Neville to frown. As the red-haired Gryffindor piled more chicken and dumplings onto his plate, he cast a quick look at Tobias, who hadn't said anything since they sat down to eat. "What are you going to do this time Tobias? I bet you and Lupin are going to start those dementor lessons. Merlin, I would love—"

"He's not." Tobias said quickly, stopping Ron before he said something he shouldn't. "He won't be able to teach me until next term."

"Then come to Hogsmeade," Theodore said, ignoring the look of death on Hermione's face. "You know that Sirius Black isn't after you anymore—you'll have nothing to worry about."

Ron nodded. "Plus it's the last visit of the term—and I heard Christmastime at Hogsmeade is the best time to go."

"Whether Sirius Black is after him or not," Hermione said promptly, glaring at the two boys. "Tobias shouldn't be going. He didn't get his permission slip signed—what if he gets caught?"

"To be honest, Granger," said Draco, "Tobias usually gets rewarded when he breaks the rules."

Theodore snorted. "I can see the golden plaque now: 'For undying Christmas Spirit, Tobias LeStrange.'"

The table burst into laughter, even Hermione couldn't fight it. They laughed and laughed and it honestly felt like they couldn't stop. None of them could remember the last time they laughed like this—where it actually felt safe to laugh, and Tobias didn't want to take that away from them.

"I thought about going to the library," Tobias said after the laughter died down. "See if I can find some more information on Black."

Tobias immediately noticed how Draco's mood changed. He was sure Draco didn't want him digging any deeper in regards to Sirius Black, but lately the Slytherin had been feeling a strange vibe from his blonde-haired cousin. They hadn't brought up Black in weeks, yet the near mention of his name made Draco stiff—his mood immediately changed and Tobias could've sworn he saw something that felt like guilt in his eyes.

"I thought research was Granger's department." He said sharply. "And I thought Black was old news."

Tobias ignored his sharp tone. "He isn't. Maybe he wasn't after me, but he was after something. And nobody is safe as along as that something is still in the castle."

"And since when has everyone else's safety been more important than your own?"

" _Draco!_ " Hermione shrieked, her eyes widening at her friend's words.

"Its fine, Hermione." Said the other boy. He looked upon the rest of his friends. "We've always done what we've wanted, not caring how it affects anyone else. I don't want it to be that way anymore. This dementor thing started with me, and it's going to end with me."

The table then grew silent, as if just a couple of minutes they weren't laughing and joking around. Nobody knew what to say—Draco looked furious, and Hermione had this worried look on her face.

"You guys have a good time in Hogsmeade." Tobias said before he got up from the table and left, leaving the other five. Hermione wanted to say something—if anything she wanted to rip Draco's head off. She knew what he was worried about, the real reason why he lashed out at Tobias like that. She warned Draco about this—keeping secrets. And she had a bad feeling in her gut that it was only going to get worse from here. When she came out of her thoughts, she noticed that the blonde-Slytherin was also gone, and that it was only four of them left.

* * *

"What do you want?"

Lucius smiled. "What? I can't come to visit my favorite sister-in-law?"

"Seeing as I'm your only sister-in-law," Bellatrix said uninterested, "I find that statement to be a bunch of crap." She kicked her legs onto the table, a loud rattle of chains following behind them. "Now, why are you really here? Need another favor?"

"Oh, not this time Bella." Lucius said coolly. "I have come to repay my debt."

The witch raised a brow, smiling wickedly before bursting into a hysterical fit of laughter. "There isn't anything you have that I want, brother-in-law. I hate to say it, but you've come all this way for nothing."

The blonde man smirked. "Is that so? I thought prisoners of Azkaban cherished freedom, like how a fish cherishes water once it's taken out to be eaten."

The blonde man knew he had her attention then. Freedom was like crack for Azkaban prisoners. The word made their mouth water—it made them susceptible to anything. It gave you control over them. Anything you wanted, they would do, all for the idea of freedom.

"You want me to believe you're getting me outta this dump?" Bellatrix said, her black eyes fixated on the man across from her. Lucius was never a man of his word. He was always vague with his promises—the vagueness gave him slithering room.

"Believe it or not." Lucius said, his thumb circling the green emerald on his ring. "But it is happening."

"When?"

"Soon."

The witch narrowed her eyes, slowly removing her feet from the table. She leaned forward, putting her face to face with the blonde wizard. "Why?"

"The Dark Lord is dying." Lucius could see her pupils growing wider in horror. He pulled out a letter, sliding across the table for Bellatrix to read. "We will need to keep our numbers stable once he is gone, Lord Voldemort expects you to cooperate."

The black haired witch took the letter slowly, her chains clattering as she unfolded the parchment and read the contents. Lucius waited patiently for her to finish—he needed Bellatrix's full participation.

After several minutes, the prisoner set the letter down, and Lucius could tell she was thinking over what she had just read.

"He wants me to stay put?" She said, her voice almost sounding hurt. "He doesn't want me to do anything?"

Lucius shook his head. "He doesn't want you out in the open right now. The Ministry will be looking for you— _all_ of you. But you will be given a task, a task that the Dark Lord would only entrust with his loyal servants."

"And that is?"

"The boy," said the blonde-haired man. "That is your task."

Bellatrix's frown went even deeper. "What boy?" Her eyes then grew wider. "Wait. I thought—I thought Voldemort killed him?"

"Oh Bella my dear, it seems you really have been living under a rock these past years."

There was a bang on the door. "Time's up!" One of the Azkaban guards shouted. Lucius obediently stood up, adjusting his robes in the process. He was surprised when Bellatrix finally cracked.

"What about the boy?!" She said quickly, standing up as well. She looked pathetic—her hands in chains, the dingy white and black uniform that hung from her shoulders, her dirty skin, her messy hair, her rotten teeth. She looked nothing of the strong and powerful Bellatrix LeStrange that once ruled the wizarding underworld as Lord Voldemort's top Lieutenant. But Lucius would change that—soon.

"What does he have to do with me?" She said as the wizard went to open the door. Lucius looked back and smirked.

"Did I forget to mention dear sister?" He said slyly. "He's your son."

Bellatrix was left in a state of shock as the Azkaban guards guided her brother-in-law out of the wizarding prison. She didn't fight against them when they dragged her back to her cell. She didn't claw at them, or laugh hysterically through the corridors, relishing at how her echo carried through the prison. Her mind was only wrapped around one thing. Harry Potter. Why did Voldemort let him live? And how was she supposed to pretend that she was his mother?

* * *

It was the night before the Hogsmeade visit and Blaise found himself once more inside the bathroom that held the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. But instead of finding himself on the verge of a memory-clashing episode, he found himself calm and if he had to admit it, happy, for the first time since he returned to Hogwarts. He found himself lost in his thoughts as he trailed his fingers through Ginny's long red hair, barely listening to the girl ramble on about potions and transfiguration.

They were sitting on the floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Ginny's head resting peacefully in Blaise's lap. This was the first time they were alone together since the incident on the Quidditch pitch, and between the secret library sessions with Granger and lessons, Blaise barely found time for himself.

"And then Snape had the nerve to take twenty points from Gryffindor!" He heard the girl say, but then he was lost in his thoughts once more.

As happy as he was to see Ginny, something didn't feel right anymore. At times he wished those hazel eyes would turn a shade darker, so that they would resemble another Gryffindor witch. The same one he hated, but had come to admire over the past few weeks. He couldn't help but think that these feelings were coming to surface because of the simple fact that the witch was helping him with his problems. But something in his gut told him it was more than that.

And as he ran his fingers through the soft and straight strands of Ginny's hair, he couldn't help but wish that his fingers would get caught, and that he would realize he was playing in the brown, bushy mat of hair that belonged to someone else. It made him feel sick but wonderful on the inside. It made him nervous but empowered in one motion. But as he stared in the face of the girl he knew he would do anything for—as he fixated himself on every detail of her form, the freckles on her face, the way his reflection seemed so clear in her eyes, her smile—he knew that this could not be true. That he could not possibly have a crush on Hermione Granger.

He was brought back to reality when Ginny sat up. She looked as if she had asked him something, but Blaise didn't know what. And to make things worse, he couldn't even pretend that he had heard her.

"Did you say something?" He said, trying to seem as innocent as possible.

"I asked did you want to go to Hogsmeade with me." The girl said. "We could get each other our Christmas presents."

"You want to go to Hogsmeade…with me?" Blaise almost laughed. "You want to go out in public with me?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "We've been out in public before. Remember Valentine's Day last year?"

"Oh right, I remember." But Blaise didn't remember. He didn't remember anything. He balled his fist as he remembered his Valentine's Day from last year—where LeStrange and Parkinson faked a card from Ginny and trapped him in the broom cupboard.

"So will you go?"

Blaise unballed his fists, staring back into Ginny's eyes. And he realized what he was truly feeling. It was sadness. The Blaise he was wasn't the Blaise that this alternate Ginny had spent Valentine's Day with. His Ginny was oblivious to his crush on her—they had just become friends at the end of their second year. Yet it appeared that he had done so much with this Ginny, and yet he couldn't even remember.

And that was probably why he felt the way he did about Granger. They weren't friends in the original timeline nor in the alternate. He was free to make new memories, and not forced to lie about events that he never experienced. He could relate to her, unlike Ginny, but he desperately wished that he could.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

Tobias watched as his friends left for Hogsmeade that morning, watching as the snowflakes safely landed on their traveling cloaks. Theodore and Ron seemed the most excited, running ahead of the crowd to get to their destination first. Neville was behind them, trying his best not to fall in the snow. Draco and Hermione walked beside each other, enjoying the walk to Hogsmeade, no doubt talking about school—and possibly Tobias.

The Slytherin turned around once the students were out of sight and made his way down the corridors, starting his journey to the library. His goal to find what Sirius Black was looking for that night on Halloween never left his thoughts—and today he was going to fulfill that goal. This time he wouldn't wait for Dumbledore to come and save the day—or for Hermione to find a piece of parchment that held all the answers. He would find the answers himself, get rid of Black himself, and defeat the dementors in the process.

"Psst—Tobias."

The Slytherin turned around, to see Fred and George Weasley strolling up behind him. From the smirks on their faces, Tobias could tell they were up to no good. And surely they had to be—who would miss a trip to Hogsmeade?

"Shouldn't you two be on the way to Hogsmeade?" Tobias asked suspiciously.

"Well we would…" Fred said.

"But we noticed that we're missing something." Said George.

Fred nodded. "And that missing thing is you, Tobias."

"Sorry to ruin your holiday cheer," said the Slytherin. "But I'm not allowed to go to Hogsmeade. I'll be breaking the rules."

Fred and George's smirk grew even bigger. "You'll only be breaking the rules if you get caught." They then grabbed Tobias's arms and began to guide him down the corridor. Tobias soon realized as they reach the marble staircase, that the twins were leading him to Gryffindor Tower. But as they made it to the third- floor corridor, they made a detour, ending up in front of a statue of a hump-backed, one eyed witch. Before Tobias could say anything, Fred and George handed him a large, worn out piece of parchment. From the way it was folded, Tobias believed it to be a map, but it was completely blank.

"You dragged me all this way to give me a blank piece of parchment." The boy said disappointedly, his frown sinking deeper when the twins snickered behind him.

"This, Tobias," said George, patting the parchment as if it was his most loyal pet. "is the secret to our success."

Fred nodded. "It's a wrench, giving it to you, but we decided last night, your needs are greater than ours."

"Besides," the other twin shrugged. "We know it by heart. So we bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."

Tobias seemed confused. "And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" And at this question, Fred and George seemed shocked, which only furthered their excitement.

"A bit of old parchment!" Fred said with a gasp. "Explain George."

"No, no, no. That would take forever, Fred." George said, taking out his wand. "Why don't we just show him?" With his wand, George lightly tapped the parchment. " _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_

And before Tobias's eyes, thin, black ink lines began to spread like a virus across the parchment from where the tip of George's wand touched it. The Slytherin watched as the lines met at certain points, joining at different corners. They crisscrossed and zig-zagged until they finally finished their masterpiece. And in great curly green letters, the title read:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

Tobias was speechless at what he saw. It was unbelievable. It was the map of Hogwarts. From the grounds to the castle—the map showed everything. He spotted Hagrid's hut—the Slytherin dungeons—even Dumbledore's office. And it was when he spotted Dumbledore's office that he noticed the ink dot pacing back and forth in his office. With the professor's name following the ink dot, Tobias realized that the dots represented people. He saw that Mrs. Norris was creeping around the second floor, and that Peeves was bouncing around the trophy room. He also noticed a set of passages he had never seen before, some of them leading—

"Right to Hogsmeade," Fred said, pointing to the one that they were nearest by. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four." He pointed them out on the map. "But we are positive that we only know about these _these._ Don't bother with one behind the mirror on the fourth floor—it's a dead end. We haven't bothered to use this one, seeing as the Whomping Willow is planted right over the entrance. But this one however, is our favorite, leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times."

"And you don't even have to find it." George said triumphantly. "Because the entrance is right in front of you. _Ahhh._ Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, we owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of law-breakers."

"Now," George said quickly. "We have to go before McGonagall notices. Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it."

Fred nodded. "Otherwise, anyone can read it."

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"And with that, we bid you good luck." Fred then stood straight, making a mocking impersonation of Percy. "And behave yourself."

The twins then left, leaving Tobias alone with the Marauder's Map. He continued to watch the ink dots of Dumbledore and Mrs. Norris. The excitement that was running through him was unnatural—but nevertheless, he was hesitant to use the map. He remembered what happened to Ginny, when something as simple as a diary cause her a whole lot of trouble. But this wasn't anything like Tom Riddle's diary, and it couldn't be—Fred and George had been using it for years with no trouble.

The Slytherin then looked up at the statue, trying to figure out how he was going to get through to the passage that lead to Honeydukes. He looked back at the map, searching for answers, when he found a tiny speech bubble that read " _Dissendium."_

Tobias felt his blood pump faster. He dug into his robes and pulled out his wand. He tapped the stone witch, saying the spell, and to his surprise, the stone witch opened, allowing enough room for him to fit through. Tobias glanced up and down the corridor once more before shoving the map into his robes and heading down the passage.

* * *

Hermione and Draco's first stop was Honeydukes. They had decided to do their Christmas shopping for Ron and Theodore there. But as they seemed to look like the average couple looking for candy, they were knee deep in an argument that started before they even took their first steps to Hogsmeade.

"Why won't you tell him?" Hermione whispered furiously, examining a few chocolate frogs. "He's going to find out Draco, and if he finds out that you knew—"

"He won't." Draco snapped back. "But if you keep acting weird around him, he's bound to know you're hiding something."

"Well, excuse me for being weird! Maybe I should just lash out at him for no reason at all…like you!"

Draco gritted his teeth. "I'm trying to protect him."

"No." Hermione shot back. "You're trying to protect yourself. Now I'm done arguing about this."

"Fine." Said the blonde Slytherin. But it wasn't fine—Hermione didn't understand. Slytherins kept secrets, it was part of their nature. And they always had good intentions—and protecting Tobias from facing Black by himself was a good reason not to tell him the truth. Even if Sirius Black did murder his father. But he hated to admit that the Gryffindor witch might be right, that Draco was risking his friendship with this secret. If Tobias found out that the blonde Slytherin knew how his father really died, their bond would be broken. And Draco didn't know if he could take that pain. Maybe Hermione was right—maybe he was protecting himself.

"Do you think Tobias would like these?" the boy said, trying to direct his attention somewhere else. He didn't even realize he was holding a jar of Cockroach Cluster's.

Hermione's nose twitched. "I thought we were looking for Ron and Theo's gift?"

"Yeah I know…but Tobias likes candy, too."

"And as much as I like candy," said a familiar voice that almost made Draco drop the jar. "Cockroach clusters aren't on the list."

" _Tobias!_ " Hermione squealed as the raven-haired Slytherin revealed himself from under his invisibility cloak. "What are you doing here?"

"A better question would be," Draco said sternly. "how?"

Tobias then pulled out the Marauder's Map. "With this." He then told the two all about the map and how Fred and George gave it to them. He pointed out all the secret passageways and even the ink dots that represented who was inside the castle. Tobias was so caught up in his excitement, he didn't even see the worried expressions on his two friends' face.

"Where's everyone else?" He said.

"They're waiting for us at the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said. "But, Tobias—"

"Great! I've have to tell them all about the map! I know Ron and Theo will be thrilled."

And before the other two could say anything else, Tobias was gone, and they had no choice but to follow him. How could they explain footsteps in the snow with no one to claim them? Tobias wasn't supposed to be in Hogsmeade but since he was here—they had no choice but to make sure they were the only ones aware of his presence.

Tobias was lost in awe at the sight of Hogsmeade at Christmas time. It was like something out of one of those muggle Christmas Cards. The shops were draped and snow and the glowing lights made everything seem so festive, so peaceful, so beautiful. There were enchanted candles hanging from the trees and groups of wizards and witches singing Christmas Carols.

"Well since you're here." Draco whispered, walking up behind him. "I guess we might as well give you the tour. It is Christmastime after all."

Tobias walked alongside Draco and Hermione, who had to pretend they weren't walking with a third person. They pointed out the different shops in Hogsmeade—the post office, Zonko's Joke shop, and every other place in between until they found the Three Broomsticks.

The three third- years walked inside to find the pub completely crowded with Hogwarts students and holiday tourists. Hermione spotted Ron, Theodore, and Neville sitting at a table at the back of the room. It was just their luck that they were sitting at the farthest table in the pub, making it least obvious that Tobias was with them.

"About time you guys got here!" Theodore said. "What happened? Lost track of time during your snog session?"

Draco went red and Hermione rolled her eyes. "We had to give someone a tour of Hogsmeade." She said irritably.

"Who?" asked Neville.

Ron sloppily wiped some butterbeer from his mouth. "Probably some old geezer."

"Oi!" Tobias said, making Ron nearly drop his glass. "I'm not that old."

Theodore's eyes grew wider in shock. "Well, I'll be damned! You little scoundrel!"

Hermione shushed them immediately. "Not so loud!" She looked around the pub, making sure that they weren't being overheard. She then snapped her head back to the three boys. "Somebody might hear you!"

"Alright, alright, fine." Theodore huffed. "But can he at least tell us how in Salazar's name he got here?"

Tobias sat in between Theodore and Ron, re-telling the story of how Fred and George gave him the Marauder's Map and how he used one of the secret passageways to get into Honeydukes. Theodore nearly squealed with glee when Tobias opened the map to show them how it worked. Ron, however, wasn't that gleeful.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to _me!_ " He pouted. "I'm their brother."

Hermione crossed her arms. "It doesn't matter how he got it. Tobias isn't going to keep it. He's going to turn it in, aren't you Tobias?"

"The bloody hell I am," Tobias said quickly, tucking the map back into his robes.

"Are you mad?" Ron roared.

"Hand in something that good?" said Theodore. "He's has a map to the whole _school._ Dumbledore wouldn't even give that up."

"And neither would Sirius Black," Draco growled. "Imagine if he got his hands on that. How do we even know he doesn't know about those secret passageways?"

Theodore snorted, waving a dismissive hand. "Oh cut it out. Sirius Black isn't after Tobias. Did we all forget? Whatever he wants, it's at Hogwarts. And guess where we are?"

"Hogsmeade." Tobias answered.

"Atta boy."

Draco rolled his eyes and that worried expression never left Hermione's face. Ignoring their frustration, Tobias took his first sip of butterbeer. It was the best thing he had ever tasted—and that was saying something. It warmed every part of his body and wiped away every fear and insecurity he had before stepping into the pub. He didn't stop until he reached the last drop, setting his glass down with a loud _ahhhh._

"Merry Bloody Christmas!" Theodore laughed.

The doors to the pub opened once more, and Tobias saw all his Christmas cheer literally walk away. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick had just walked into the pub. And behind them came Hagrid and Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Before Tobias could blink, he felt himself being forced under the table by Ron and Theodore. He watched as the teachers walked passed their table, and heard someone from up above whisper " _Mobiliarbus!"_ He watched as the spell took action, making the Christmas tree beside their table rise a few inches and lean forward slightly, making the six disappear from view. Tobias held his breath as he saw the group sit down right next to their table, being greeted by the pub owner, Madam Rosmerta.

"A small gillywater?"

"Mine." He heard Professor McGonagall say.

"Four pints of mulled mead?"

"Ta, Rosmerta," Hagrid said.

And it went on until all of the guests received their drinks. Tobias could feel his heart about to explode. He didn't think that the teachers would be in Hogsmeade today, too. But how could he not have thought about it? This was the last visit for the teachers, too. Surely they would want to enjoy Hogsmeade before school got out.

Draco could feel the anger rushing through his veins, but tried to stay as calm as he could. He didn't want to draw attention to their table. If one of the professors noticed them, they might as well prepare to pack their things permanently.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" said Madam Rosmerta.

Fudge's chair squeaked, and Tobias assumed he moved his chair to prevent eavesdroppers. "What else m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor."

Professor McGonagall scoffed. "Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid? Honestly."

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it." Fudge said shortly.

Hermione tried not to say anything, but her worst fears were about to become a reality. If Black was still in the area, that means that Tobias was still in danger. But that wasn't the source of her anxiety—she truly hoped that this conversation about Sirius Black would end soon.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice? Scared all my customers away. It's very bad for business, Minister."

"I agree, Rosmerta m'dear, I agree." Said Fudge. "But it's a necessary precaution. We all know what Black's capable of."

"Then, why not let the Aurors come after him?" Professor McGonagall snapped. "We can barely teach without those things flying around, terrifying the students."

"All the same, they are here to protect the students."

Theodore wanted to scoff at that comment. He had seen his best friend get attacked twice by those dementors. They aren't here to protect anybody—they just want a snack.

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said somberly. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

Fudge sighed. "You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta. The worst he did isn't widely known."

Ron could barely stop himself from shaking. What could be worse than murdering thirteen people?

"The worst?" the pub owner said back, her voice piqued with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do."

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"Do you remember who his best friend was at Hogwarts, Rosmerta?" Professor McGonagall said carefully.

"Of course. Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act. Sirius Black and James Potter."

Draco closed his eyes in relief. _This old tale._ He thought. For a moment he believed that McGonagall was about to reveal the truth about Tobias's father—the secret he had been trying to keep.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

Hagrid chuckled. "I dunno. Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run for their money. Give it a few more years, and Theodore Nott will be the next face of mischief at Hogwarts."

"You would have thought them brothers!" squealed Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable, they were!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily." He sighed deeply. "They even made him god-father to their son, Harry. That is before he turned out to be in league with You- Know-Who of course."

Tobias froze at the name. Harry. It was the same name he'd heard when he passed out at the Quidditch match. Could this be the boy Fudge was referring too? The boy that his grandfather wanted to murder? And his mother—who possibly was Lily Potter—she had died at his hands as well. It made Tobias's stomach twist in guilt.

"Is that all?" Madam Rosmerta asked, unsatisfied.

"Oh that's just the beginning." Fudge went on. "You all remember that the Potters were known as the leaders of the Anti-Voldemort movement. With their son being born, Dumbledore deemed it unsafe for them to be out in the open, so he hid them. And with Lord Voldemort not being an easy person to hide from, Dumbledore made them use the Fidelius Charm."

"You mean—they got a secret keeper?" Madam Rosmerta asked.

"Yes, m'dear. Very complex spell, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. As long as the secret keeper refused to speak, the secret would stay a secret. Lord Voldemort could march up and down the village and would never find them. So Black became the Potter's Secret Keep, and no matter how hard Dumbledore protested, James swore on his life that Black would die before giving them up. But everyone knows how that story went. Black betrayed them, and Lord Voldemort killed the whole Potter family." Madam Rosmerta gasped in horror.

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid growled.

"And it didn't stop there." Fudge said lowly. "It was like he was on a murdering spree. He murdered his other best friend, Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew used to follow James and Sirius around like they were gods. The boy was so overcome with grief when the news spread about James and Lily that he went after Sirius himself. And Black murder him! Blew him to smithereens. Along with twelve muggles—the only thing left at the scene was a finger. Pettigrew's finger."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose. "Stupid boy…foolish boy…he was always hopeless at dueling…should have left it to the Ministry…"

"And let's not forget his betrayal to You-Know-Who." Fudge whispered. "Countless number of Death Eaters he murdered. Malfoy told me about them all—that family is always full of secrets. Even the son has his share, no doubt."

Tobias felt his ears fully lock on the conversation. Black betrayed his grandfather, and the Malfoys knew about it? That meant Draco knew about it—he had to, his father told him everything. What had Sirius Black done?

Draco wanted to leave the table—right now. But he couldn't and he hated that he couldn't. Why couldn't his father keep his mouth shut? Blurting all their secrets to the bloody Minister. He tried to tune out the conversation, but he couldn't- he could hear the words clear as day.

"What happened?" Madam Rosmerta asked. "What did he do? I thought he was You-Know-Who's most loyal servant?"

"That's what we tell the papers. We honestly don't know what Black is."

"But what happened?" Professor Flitwick went on. Tobias could feel the blood in his ears rushing.

"Black apparently had another best mate once he got in league with You-Know-Who. You all remember Rodolphous LeStrange?" asked Fudge.

"Used to hang with Lucius Malfoy all the time during his time at Hogwarts." Said Professor McGonagall.

"Same story." Fudge continued. "Lucius said they were inseparable. You never saw LeStrange without Black. And once again, Black betrayed him. Killed him—in cold blood. I don't even think Bellatrix knows that it was Black who killed her husband."

The pub owner gasped again. "And didn't they have a son, too?"

"Tobias LeStrange. It's a shame that Black is the reason he's growing up without a father. I wouldn't wish that on any child—even if he is the heir to You-Know-Who. Rumor was Rodolphous wasn't even going to be sent to Azkaban."

The table went silent. No one said anything else. Tobias felt frozen in his spot under the table. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. Sirius Black murdered his father. Sirius Black was the reason Tobias had to grow up without his him. And what made him feel even worse, Draco knew about it—he had to, it all made since. Why didn't he tell him? Why did Draco keep this a secret for _so long_?

Draco felt sick. He didn't want Tobias to find out this way—he didn't want his cousin to find out at all. And the fact that Fudge brought up his family. His body felt numb—Hermione had been right all along. This was the end.

The adults left the table one by one. Hermione heard Professor McGonagall say something about the Minister dining with Dumbledore tonight at the castle. The six did not move. No one knew what to say. They all, except Draco, looked under the table to find Tobias's face a ghostly pale.

"Tobias?" Hermione said softly.

But the boy did not answer her.

 **Author's Note: Whew! Well that was a doozy. Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	51. POA13: Control of the Strings

Welcome to your life

There's no turning back

Even while we sleep

We will find you

Acting on your best behavior

Turn your back on Mother Nature

Everybody wants to rule the world

~ Everybody Wants to Rule the World x Lorde

Chapter 51: Control of the Strings

" _I have no strings….to hold me down."_

They left.

One by one they flew away from the castle until there were no more of them left. The students watched from the windows, their minds debating the possibilities of the dementors' sudden departure. Did they catch Sirius Black? Did Dumbledore send them away? Or had something else happened? Their minds assumed the latter, for as the dementors drifted out of sight—the skies remained dark and cloudy. There was no arrival of sunshine—no bloom of purple and pink flowers. No birds singing. No creatures running about. The Earth stood still as the dementors left—as if this was the end. The peace before the storm.

" _To make me fret…or make me frown."_

He couldn't hear the screams. He couldn't see the horrid expressions on their faces. He had no mission. He no goal. All he had was anger. All he had was questions. But instead of his words, he used his fists. He used them again, and again, and again. He felt hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him back—to restrain him. But he had no plans of being restrained. There was a loud whoosh and a shatter of objects. The lights flicked, the walls shook. And the boy could feel his magic taking over—vibrating uncontrollably in his veins. There was a flash of red. And then everything went black.

" _I had Strings…but now I'm free."_

The doors slammed and the old wizard felt his last hope slam with them. He was not surprised by the man's actions. It was common for him to run—to hide from what was happening to them. The old wizard could see that the man was trying to fight against it. That he was trying to decide between what was right and what was easy. In his eyes, the old wizard could see the truth. It was written in the skies—it was written in the stars. Yet, how long would they hide—before it's too late. The doors opened.

"Do you think they've caught him?" She said, her eyes wide with fear. Though she knew the answer. How long would they hide?

Another voice. A man's. "They seem to be headed towards Azkaban. Perhaps they did." But where were the feelings of happiness? Where was the relief? The cheers. The laughter. Where was the hope? How long could they hide?

"No," said the old wizard. "This something else—"

" _There are no strings on me."_

"—something much worse."

* * *

"I tell you, Albus," Fudge said with a satisfactory smile on his face. "Nobody makes a meal like Hogwarts. No wonder this is the most populated wizarding school." He laughed at that bit.

Dumbledore smiled lightly. Usually, he would have some whimsical comment to say, but he couldn't quite find the right words. He suspected that they were hidden somewhere deep below the worrying thoughts swirling in his head.

The old wizard had barely touched his food as he dined with the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, that night. Though the smell of the lamb steak and mashed potatoes succeeded in seducing his taste buds, the old wizard found himself unable to bring himself to eat it. So instead, he watched as the Minister ate his food, waiting for the conversation to begin. He watched as Fudge ate everything, finally downing it all with a glass of red wine. He would need a full stomach to handle what Dumbledore was about to tell him.

"Is there something wrong, Albus? You haven't said anything since I arrived."

The old wizard blinked. Where would he start? I guess he would begin with the simplest one.

"I don't think Black is after the LeStrange boy." Said Dumbledore. Fudge frowned, and the old wizard knew that his confession sounded outrageous to him. But after what happened last year, Fudge would be foolish to ignore it.

"And who do you think he is after?" Fudge asked, swirling his fingers over the rim of his wine glass—no doubt wishing he had more of the rich beverage to continue this conversation.

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter Pettigrew is dead, Albus. Sirius Black _killed_ him."

Dumbledore didn't respond to Fudge's definite tone. "You know as well as I do, Cornelius, that there wasn't enough evidence."

" _Enough Evidence?!"_ The Minister almost knocked over his glass. "There were _thirteen_ muggles dead, Albus. Vaporized-dead in the street! Pettigrew's finger lying in the midst of it all!"

"But why would Black leave his finger?" The old wizard asked. "If Sirius Black is the notorious murderer you all say he is, why leave something so irrelevant? Forgive me Minister, but if I was him—I would've left Pettigrew's body vaporized in the street with the rest of the muggles. Or if I did want to leave sufficient evidence, why not leave his head? That is Death Eater M.O."

Fudge shook his head. "He was _mad,_ Dumbledore." The man spluttered. "There was no telling what was going through his head. I don't have time for this." Outraged, the Minister stood up from the dinner table and grabbed his cloak. His thoughts of leaving changed when Dumbledore spoke once more.

"None of us have time for this, Cornelius." Dumbledore said, his voice low and threatening. "And I rather not waste the time we do have left arguing about someone who isn't dead."

"What do you mean? _The time we do have left?_ "

The two men stared at each other, and Dumbledore could tell that Fudge already knew what he meant. It did not surprise the old wizard that the Minister had tried to hide this from the rest, and even himself—it did not surprise him that Fudge had tried to run from it. It was what he always did.

"Lord Voldemort sent one of the heirs on a mission, a mission which led to the changing of certain events in time." Said Dumbledore, his tone remaining the same. "The effects are now taking their toll—if we don't do anything now—"

"No." Fudge said, closing his eyes. "You will _not_ make this any worse than it already is, Albus. I already have to deal with Black and these dementor attacks, and this nonsense about Hagrid—I cannot—you will not—" He caught his breath. "You expect me to believe that Lord Voldemort changed time? That he manipulated someone else against their will to cause another problem, in a huge pool of other problems?"

Dumbledore then stood up. "Yes, I do. What if that is the reason these other problems are occurring? You cannot run from this, Cornelius. Not this time. The longer we stay here, the worse things will get."

The minister went quiet, and the two men were staring at each other once more.

"Cornelius, listen to me. This world we are living in, it isn't real. Yes, it may seem real to everyone else, but you know that we don't belong here. And we must go back and change time before it is too late."

Another silence. Dumbledore could see the conflict in Fudge's eyes. The battle between what is easy and what is right.

"You will not interfere with this." Fudge said finally, his tone definite and hard. "I will decide if we aren't safe to be here—not you Dumbledore, you gave up that right a long time ago." The man threw on his cloak and headed straight for the door.

Unnerved, Dumbledore watched as the man left, slamming the door shut. Once again, he wasn't surprised by Fudge's reaction. He knew the man would try to run from it for as long as he could, but they both knew that wouldn't be long. Longing to clear his head, the old wizard walked towards the window, and a new feeling of lost hope washed over him.

* * *

Numb wasn't the word to describe how Tobias was feeling. To be honest, he felt dead. The only thing that felt alive was his mind, and that was only because it was swirling with questions. It was being devoured in the words he heard back at the Three Broomsticks.

" _And let's not forget his betrayal to You-Know-Who….Malfoy told me all about them—that family is always full of secrets"_

" _You never saw LeStrange without Black…..Killed him—in cold blood."_

" _It's a shame that Black is the reason he's growing up without a father…..Rumor was Rodolphous wasn't even going to be sent to Azkaban."_

" _I don't even think Bellatrix knows that it was Black who killed her husband."_

Tobias didn't know what to say when Hermione found him pale-faced under the table. He didn't know what to do. So he left. Disappearing under his invisibility cloak he left the Three Broomsticks and made his back to Honeydukes, down to the cellar, and back through the tunnel to Hogwarts. That was the only thing he was sure of.

He wasn't sure of a few things, however. Like why no one ever told him the truth about his father's death. Why his grandfather never told him. Why Dumbledore didn't tell him. Why didn't anyone tell him? And what made everything worse—Draco knew. His cousin and best friend knew all this time and didn't tell him the truth. It made him wonder who else knew—who else was hiding this fact from him. Who didn't see it fit for him to know the truth?

His thoughts lead him back to the Slytherin Common room, where he knew the others would be waiting for him. Though a part of him wished that they were still in Hogsmeade, hoping that he had disappeared into the forest or somewhere deep in crowded town. If anything, he wanted to be alone.

He said the password without thinking twice, hoping for the latter, but his wish did not come true. Stepping inside the common room, his eyes immediately locked on the gray eyes of his cousin. The fire in his soul sparked. He felt his feet move before he could even fathom what he was doing.

"Tobias!" Hermione cried. "Stop!"

But he couldn't hear her. He didn't care to hear her or anything else anyone in that room had to say. It wasn't long until he had reached his victim and stuck him right in the jaw, knocking him off the leather black couch and onto the marble floor of the room. He didn't say anything as he stood over the boy, grabbing the collar of his oxford and punching him again. And again and again and again. He felt hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him back, but there was a loud whoosh and a shatter of objects, and Tobias knew he had pushed them away. He could feel his magic radiating—the same way it had radiated when…

Quirrell.

His mind then left his body, returning to memories of a falling chamber—glass and debris flying everywhere. He felt the anger rushing through his veins—his magic surging uncontrollably through the walls. He could hear it whooshing in his ears. He could see the fire in his eyes. And with each flash he felt the torn flesh beneath his skin—he felt the blood…

He suddenly stopped, his eyes meeting Draco's gray ones. And in his eyes, he could see his reflection—Tobias's eyes had turned red. He froze in mid-action—his fist balled, ready for the next blow. The hands returned, and he felt himself being dragged away. Someone crouched before him and he met another set of eyes- brown this time. _Hermione._

"Tobias!" Her voice echoed. "Tobias!" It grew louder and louder until he saw his eyes return to their original shade of green. He could see everything now—he could hear everything now. The lights in the common room were flickering—Theodore and Ron were sprawled across the floor— Neville crouched under a table, his arms wrapped around his knees. And then there was Draco. His face bloodied and bruised—his gray eyes darkening.

"You knew!" Tobias felt himself scream. His voice was hoarse. He hadn't spoken since he had arrived in Hogsmeade those hours ago. The words scratched his throat. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

The blonde-haired boy said nothing. Draco didn't know what to say. He was waiting for Granger's "I told you so." Or for someone to pinch him, so he could wake and realize that this was a dream. But the feeling in his gut told him this was no dream.

"I-I was trying to protect you." He said.

The lights flickered. "From what?!" Tobias screamed again.

Hermione couldn't stop the tears that were falling down her cheeks. She had never seen Tobias so angry, so out of control before. It scared her—the way his magic reacted with his emotions. He was like an unstable child. She kept eyes on the wall ahead—not wanting to look at Draco's face. She had too kept this a secret from Tobias—and this was much as her fault as it was Draco's. It made her think of all the lies she had told—it made her think about what she had learned about this alternate universe. That it would only get worse from here.

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!"

Another Azkaban guard met his fate as his body fell to the cold hard floor. His murderers stepped over him, one of them playfully kicking his body to the side, laughing merciless as she bent down and removed the wand from his limp hand.

The voice echoed through the prison in a tune that would give the dementors the chills. The voice belonged to a man, but he walked with the grace of a woman. With each step, he felt the weight of twelve years of imprisonment lift from his shoulders. The halls were dark, the only light being the green flashes of the killing curse, the sounds of hysterical laughter rumbling off the stone walls. One might see it as chaos, but the man in the woman's body saw it as beauty.

Bellatrix walked beside the man, her heart pounding with excitement. For once, Lucius was true to his word. She was a free woman. She could feel the life returning to her soul—the blood burning in her veins. She could feel the power of her long-lost magic flowing through her. She laughed as she felt it surge through her body like an electric charge.

"Must you always be so dramatic?" She teased as she followed the man in the woman's body.

The man smirked, barely noticing the effects of the polyjuice potion wearing off. With a flick of his wand, the pink and white striped dress he had been previously wearing materialized into a set of long jet black robes. The only thing that was missing was his mask—but he knew he would be knighted when he returned. Licking his lips in excitement, he set down the steps to the bottom floor of the prison.

Bellatrix followed him, killing any guard that stood in their way. The Dark Lord's instructions were clear—no survivors. The man picked up his pace—they didn't have a lot of time. The dementors would be back soon—to take their souls once more. To lock them in these cages—to make them wait another twelve years for this moment again. The witch gritted her teeth at the thought—not again.

They reached the bottom floor, where they had begun. All the cells were opened and empty except for one. The man was quite familiar with this one. Whistling his tune, he walked into the darkness and made his way towards the closed cell. Coming into the light, she had seen him. She rose quickly, her hands gripping the bars desperately—fear and pain glittering in her eyes.

"Bartemius." She said, her voice cracking. "Bartemius, please."

The man was not affected.

"Where's your father? Y—your father, Bartemius. Where is he?"

"Dead." He said. There was no hesitation in his voice. No regret. No pain. "And soon you will be too, mother."

The woman gasped, the tears flooding down her cheeks. She backed away from the bars, trying to put enough distance between her and her son—where he couldn't hurt her. But deep down she knew she could not hide from him—this was who he was.

Crouch pulled out his wand, and as he rubbed his hand down the wooden stick, he asked her, "Did you know what he was going to do to me?"

"I—I—" She shook her head frantically. "He told me he was going to bring you home."

"LIAR!" His voice echoed through the corridor, causing his mother to jump. She was frail and weak, her sickness taking over her body. He could leave her—and let death take its course. But his loyalty was to the Dark Lord and he had a mission to fulfill.

He forced himself against the bars. "He wanted to enslave me. Make me his pawn." He smiled maniacally. "But now I'm free, mother."

His mother was crying now as he raised his wand. "Please…please…have mercy…have mercy."

Aiming his wand through the bars, he said his final goodbye to his mother. "I'm sorry mother, but there are no strings on me. _Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a cackle of laughter and the woman fell to the ground. The man didn't shed a tear as he cast his next spell, burying the body in a band of flames. He turned around, tucking the wand in his robes. Turning to his comrade, they then both disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

* * *

Draco hissed in pain as Hermione tended to his wounds. He didn't deserve her help—he didn't deserve her sympathy. She was right—about everything. He realized it when it was too late—when he saw the rage in Tobias's eyes when he walked into the common room. He didn't even put up a fight. What would he have done? What would he have done had he found out his best friend kept the truth about his father's death a secret? _I just wanted to protect him._

 _No._ He heard Hermione's voice overpowering his. _You wanted to protect yourself._

He sat on one of the study tables in the common room. Hermione had found some dittany in one of the desk drawers. It made Draco uneasy how calm she was—he remembered how she looked during the fight. She was horrified—he could still see where the tears had fallen on her cheeks. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. This wasn't his fault—it was Fudge's. Fudge chose to run his mouth at the wrong time. He was the reason Hermione was in tears and that Tobias lost his temper. He had done the right thing—he had done the Slytherin thing. But even then.

He grabbed her arm, preventing her from addressing his wounds any longer. He didn't deserve it.

"You should go find, Tobias." He said. "Talk to him."

The girl sighed. "I think I've had enough of listening to you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

At that question, their eyes met, and the way she stared at him made the blonde Slytherin sick to his stomach.

"Look around you." She said, but Draco refused to look. He knew what he would see. The Slytherin common room was destroyed—the lights were still flickering from Tobias's rage. Neville was upstairs with Ron and Theodore, using the spells Hermione showed them to heal their wounds. Tobias left after the fight—no one knew where he went, or where he could have gone. No one had said anything to each other since.

"I let you convince me into keeping this a secret." The witch continued. "I let you convince me to continuously lie to my best friend. One of the first real friends I found here at Hogwarts."

Draco frowned, her words hitting a nerve. "You did that on your own accord."

"I did it for _you_!" She screeched, snatching her arm out of the Slytherin's hold. "I did it because I trusted you to do the right thing. But all you ever care about is yourself!"

The blonde Slytherin jumped down from the table, bringing himself face to face with the bushy-haired Gryffindor. Hermione could see in his eyes that he was angry, but she kept her ground.

"You let this happen, Draco." She said.

"No." The boy snapped. "Fudge should've kept his mouth shut. My father—"

"You sound just like him! Whether Fudge said something or not, Tobias was going to find out the truth and we would still be in this situation!"

"Then, go be with LeStrange!" Draco roared. The witch had struck another nerve, bringing up his father. "If I'm such a horrible person, why are you here?!" He pointed towards the door, his eyes never leaving hers. "The door's that way!"

Hermione stood there speechless—was Draco really that clueless? No, he wasn't. He was selfish. Why couldn't he admit that he was wrong? Why was he hiding from the truth? She balled her fists, refusing to back down from this.

"I'm here because I care about you, Draco! Yes, I should be with Tobias—because he could be Merlin knows where—but he isn't the one who had his face beaten into a bloody pulp." She threw down the towel. "You can't run from this."

"I was trying to protect him." The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "I'm not running from anything."

"You're running from the fact that you messed up. And you know you messed up."

"You wouldn't understand." Said the boy, pushing past her.

Hermione turned around. "Why?!" She yelled at him. "Why wouldn't I understand?!"

"Because you're not one of us, Hermione!" Draco roared back. "You will never be one of us, therefore you will not understand. You will never understand!"

The words came out before Draco realized what he was saying—and at this moment, he didn't know if he wanted to take them back. Granger may have been right, but she didn't understand. He knew he was wrong for hiding the truth, but all of this wasn't because of him. He didn't blab off at the mouth about Tobias's father. He didn't wreck the common room—yet Granger had the audacity to blame it all on him. These thoughts flowed through his veins like a virus, tending to the fire in his eyes.

There was nothing he could say now that would stop the tears that were falling down her face now. He only stood there—staring at her, his chest heaving with anger. The blonde Slytherin hoped that she would leave—but the longer she stood there, the worse it felt.

"Hermione…" He tried to say, but the minute he opened his mouth, the witch walked out of the common room, her cries echoing through the dungeons. Draco was now left alone. Not knowing what to do, he pulled a chair back to the table he was once sitting on. He leaned over and picked up the towel Hermione had thrown on the floor. With intentions of tending his wounds himself, he found himself unable to complete the process. He only held the towel—his mind locked on the sight of Hermione's face. His Hermione. The second friend he had lost today.

* * *

Blaise stood beside Ginny as they watched the dementors leave Hogwarts. There was a part of Blaise that wanted to believe that Sirius Black had been captured and that this alternate timeline was making a turn for the better—but he knew he was wrong.

As he and Granger had more late-night sessions in the library, the two learned that the effects of the timeline would only get worse, no matter how hard they tried to stop it. They could slow down the effects, but they could never stop it—the time current would always correct itself. Like now. Though Blaise had decided to be a better person and had recently become friends with muggle born Hermione Granger—it wasn't enough to suck up that hopeless feeling inside of him as he watched the dementors fly away.

No one cheered, no one laughed. There was no sun—no sign that everything would be okay. There were only signs of "What's next?"—signs that this wasn't the end.

His eyes quickly left the castle window to notice that the red-haired Gryffindor was no longer standing beside him. He turned down the corridor to notice that she had walked away—to where, however, the tan Slytherin wasn't sure.

He followed her until they were out of sight from everyone else. He finally called out to her, making her stop in the middle of one of the castle's long corridors.

"Ginny!" He said, feeling his chest squeeze tightly as she stopped. For some strange reason, he wished she had kept walking. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, he walked up behind her, grabbing her lightly by her arms and turning her to his him—making them now face to face.

"Ginny, what's wrong?"

The girl shook her head. "It's nothing." She tried to release herself from his grip, but the Slytherin wouldn't let her go. They both knew she was lying—but about what?

"Don't lie to me." Said Blaise. It was moments like this when he felt like they were from two different worlds. But in reality, they were. Blaise wasn't from here—this wasn't his Ginny. He wasn't her Blaise Zabini. The one she'd spent Valentine's Day with last year. Or the one who saved her from the Chamber of secrets.

"It's like everything is getting worse." She said softly, looking down at her shoes. "Things are changing….people are changing."

"People like who?" Blaise asked, though he had a feeling that it wasn't people. It was a person…it was—

"You." Ginny said, her eyes still locked on their shoes. "Something about you has changed…it's like you're a different person."

 _It's cause I am._ Blaise wanted to say. But did he really want to? Despite their differences, this was _Ginny._ Ginny who liked him—a friendship he didn't have to keep a secret. They went places together, they did things together. It was everything he wanted. And he wanted to be the Blaise she knew and loved. But at those words, his heart broke.

The tan Slytherin sighed. He released her, tucking one hand inside his robes and retrieving his time- master. "You remember when I showed you this?" He asked. This time it was his turn to look at the ground. Ginny nodded.

"I've been using it. To travel back in time—and when I did. I changed some things."

Ginny looked up, and Blaise did the same. Looking into her eyes, he could see that she didn't understand.

"When I went back in time, I created what people call an alternate timeline." The boy continued. "An alternate timeline where everything is different, and I am the only one who can remember what the original timeline is like. That's why I didn't remember saving you from the Chamber of Secrets or spending Valentine's Day with you. It's because in my world—it never happened."

There was a silence between them, and Blaise felt the push on his words—pushing them both further apart. It made him feel sick. He was supposed to be fixing things, yet he seemed to be doing more harm than good.

"The Blaise Zabini you knew…does not exist anymore. It's just me."

The longer Ginny stayed silent—the more the tan Slytherin thought of what to say. Maybe he still had a chance to save their friendship. Maybe Ginny wouldn't care that he wasn't the guy she'd hung out with these past two years. Maybe she would give them a chance. They wouldn't have to be so different.

"How do we get him back?" She asked.

Blaise blinked. "Get who back?"

"The Blaise Zabini that belongs here." The girl said. " _My_ Blaise."

Blaise opened his mouth to answer—or maybe it was to retort. Or maybe he wanted to say something else to try to change her mind. That she didn't need him. He was here—he could take his place. He could explain to her he was trying to make things better.

"I—I don't know." He said, his heart breaking even more. "But there is another thing—I have his memories. So I'm starting to remember the times we shared…here in this timeline."

Ginny shook her head. "But you aren't _him._ And as long as I know that…." She sniffed, tears forming in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what you remember. I'll know you're different."

Blaise opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of footsteps and chatter emerging behind him told him that his time was up. Ginny took the opportunity to leave, and this time Blaise didn't walk after her. He watched as the many students walked behind her down the corridor. It had finally hit him—he didn't belong here. Ginny's words stabbed him like a knife, his heart crushed. The one thing that inspired him to stay and be a better person didn't want him.

 _It doesn't matter what you remember. I'll know you're different._

He turned opposite of the crowd, moving through the students—his destination: far from here. He had to get out of here. There was no hope—he wouldn't be able to change his outcome. He only stayed for her—and now she was gone. And he would be gone next.

He picked up his pace, heading for the third-floor corridor. In his timeline, it had been blocked off since first-year and no one was allowed to step inside of it. He had hoped in this timeline that the situation was still the same. He would sneak inside and use his time-master to go back in time—change back what he did and return to his original timeline. He clutched his time master in his hand, already beginning to remember the dials he had to turn to go back.

But one his way there, he ran into someone—the last person he expected to see right now. He immediately knew who it was when he looked up and noticed that big brown bush of hair. Hermione Granger. He almost reverted back to his old self and said something rude, but then he noticed that she was crying. In her eyes, he saw the same hurt that he was feeling. Something happened—probably between her and Malfoy, or maybe her and LeStrange. But he didn't care, seeing her right then sparked something inside of him. Ginny wasn't the only one he had promised to make everything right for. He had promised Granger as well.

They both stared at each other—their emotions in sync. Without thinking twice, he grabbed the Gryffindor's hand and turned back down the steps. She didn't protest or ask where he was taking her, but Blaise had a feeling she knew. He headed straight for the library—the place where they could both clear their heads. He was going to make this right—for Granger. For Ginny. For everyone.

* * *

Tobias lowered his wand as he heard the footsteps retreating. He found himself alone once again on the third-floor corridor. No one was allowed up here ever since the incident from their first year. It was the perfect place to be alone—to be alone and think.

The boy looked down at his hands—the specks of Draco's blood had now tried up in between his fingernails. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of Draco's badly beaten face, the sight of Theo and Ron sprawled on the common room floor. He tried to block out Neville's pale face as he hid under the table. He tried to block out the tears that were running down Hermione's face as she screamed for him to stop. He tried to block all of it out and focus on the true reason why he had attacked Draco.

Because Draco had known. Draco had known that Sirius Black killed Tobias's father and he never told him.

It didn't matter that his Grandfather never told him. It didn't matter that Dumbledore didn't tell him. They weren't his best friends. But Draco was—they told each other everything. But today it seemed like Draco was just like his father—having secrets of his own.

Tobias closed his eyes—trying to imagine what his father looked like when Black betrayed him. He pictured his father putting up a fight against the wizard, trying to convince Black to give up. He pictured Black laughing maniacally, casting spell after spell, until finally, one would hit Rodolphous LeStrange, killing him. It made Tobias ball his fist—Black was the reason he had no father, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the reason he didn't have his mother.

What if Black finished her off in Azkaban? What if Black was trying to repeat what he did to the Potters with his family? All this time Tobias had believed that Black was after something else—but what if he was truly after Tobias? What if everything that happened was an attempt to catch the Slytherin off guard… to kill him when he least expected it? Just like Black did with his father.

" _NO!"_ Tobias screamed, and the room shook. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't let that happen. He felt himself shaking with anger—the tears streaming down his face.

 _BOOM!_

There was a large crash and Tobias quickly turned around to notice that one of the statues had fallen apart. Tobias knew he had done it—he was barely trying to control the effect his anger had on his magic right now. He watched as the head of the statue rolled towards him, the stone figure stopping at his feet. Everything then grew silent.

Tobias picked up the statue head, staring into its stone eyes. In those eyes, he saw his own and then his fathers. He remembered those same green eyes from when he saw his parents in the Mirror of Erised. He felt them staring back at him through those stone eyes—telling him what to do next. Tobias pressed his forehead against the statue head, the tears falling harder down his cheeks. He knew what he needed to do, to end this once and for all.

He was going to kill Sirius Black.

* * *

In a crack of lightning, Bellatrix LeStrange and Crouch landed at the doorstep of the LeStrange Manor. Bellatrix hadn't seen the place in years, and the memories of a man she never loved rose out of the darkness. _Out of all places, why here?_

Crouch knocked on the door, and before they had time to wait, a house-elf arrived and led them inside. Crouch paid no attention to the décor of the manor as they followed the elf through the foyer, but Bellatrix could not take her eyes off the scenery. There were photos everywhere—of her and Rodolphous along with a boy she'd never seen before. Realization washed over her as she realized that this was the Potter boy, who Lucius said was being portrayed as her son. _Her son._ That part of the plan made her want to stay in Azkaban. How could she pretend to be a mother that was prophesized to be the destroyer of her beloved master? Her true love—Lord Voldemort.

As they traveled up the steps, Bellatrix was able to watch the boy's growth through the yearly portraits on the wall. For one, he looked exactly like his birth mother and father, but you could tell that Voldemort's influenced had taken over him. He looked like the perfect pureblood boy—a title that would have originally gone to her blood nephew, Draco Malfoy.

"The Dark Lord has been busy," said Crouch, and Bellatrix noticed he was looking at the photographs as well. "If he is as gifted as Lucius says he is, he might be the greatest asset we have yet."

Bellatrix pushed past him, trying to reach their destination. "I'll be the judge of that."

The witch snarled as the man chuckled behind her. It didn't matter how gifted the boy was, she didn't want this. The motherly role was something for her sister and her pathetic husband. Not her. She had no business raising a child. Especially not the Potter boy.

The elf had led them to the LeStrange study, where the Dark Lord was waiting for them. Bellatrix was the first to walk in and then Crouch. They were both shocked to find the Dark Lord in a human appearance. He looked as sick as Lucius said—he looked fragile and lifeless. Yet he sat at the study desk with a hard and strong posture. It excited the witch even more.

"Remind me to congratulate Lucius," He said hoarsely. "I didn't think his plan would work."

Crouch bowed before him. "My Lord."

"What happened to you?" Bellatrix asked. Crouch shot a look at her, and then one at the Dark Lord, but was equally surprised as she was when their master did not react.

"A precaution." He said. "The boy, your son, Bellatrix, is not aware of my true form. I have to take on this disguise while he is home for the holidays."

"The boy?" Crouch asked, astonished. "He'll be returning? Even though you're—"

"It is all part of the plan. Once I am dead, the boy will need something to stick him to our side—my death will do it. And you two will keep his head on straight until he is ready to take my place."

"You want us to raise him?" Bellatrix asked, the words sounding unnatural.

"I want you to raise him." Said Voldemort. "And Crouch will train him. I want him to be the most powerful wizard of his time. He just needs the right guidance."

Bellatrix said nothing. From the looks of it, Crouch was eager to get his hands on the boy, but the witch was still uncomfortable with her role. She would have to care for the boy as if he was her son. He would treat her as if she was his mother, though she knew deep down that she wasn't it.

"Is his magic as strong as Lucius says it is?" asked Crouch.

The Dark Lord nodded. "That and more."

The black-haired witch could barely hear what they were saying. Her mind was still wrapped around the task the Dark Lord had given her. She was still thinking about it when she and Crouch were dismissed from the study, following the house elf to their respective rooms.

"You seem uncomfortable with your task." The man said.

"I'm not. I've just—Narcissa was the motherly one out of the both of us."

"And that means you can't be?"

"I don't want to be." Bellatrix snapped. "Have you forgotten who he is?"

Crouch shook his head. "No. I haven't. And you shouldn't either."

"But how am I—"

"It will remind you of the mission." The man chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hall. "For Salazar's sake, Bella, the boy thinks you are his mother. He will respect you—he will do _anything_ you say. You have the control."

 _You have the control._

"Missus Bella," The house elf squeaked. "This is your room."

Bellatrix did not acknowledge the house elf as she stepped inside. The room was painted a soft brown color with dark green décor. She had a king-sized bed dressed in silk green sheets, her window giving her a view of the garden, which was secretly her favorite view of the manor. She walked over to the window, not even noticing that Crouch had walked in with her.

"You still love him, don't you?" He asked.

Bellatrix didn't answer. She didn't meet eyes with Crouch when he turned to stare at her. She didn't respond when shifted next to her, using his fingers to push her mess of black curls behind her neck, exposing her flesh. She closed her eyes when his lips touched her skin, letting herself get lost in the man's touch. A touch she hadn't felt in years. She didn't care that it was Crouch—her heart belonged to someone else.

"That's none of your business, Crouch." She said, not moving from her spot, and she felt the man smirk against her skin.

"He will never love you." He whispered as he nipped her skin. "He isn't capable of it." At those words she reached for her wand, snapping back to reality. She pinned Crouch against the wall, the tip of her wand at the base of his neck. She wanted to kill him—she wanted to kill him as he stood there with that smirk on his face.

"The boy needs a father figure, Bella."

"Don't call me that." She seethed, pushing the wand deeper into his flesh.

"The Dark Lord is dying," he whispered. "It's time for you to move on. It's time for you to take control."

There was that word again. _Control._ "How do I know you won't just betray me?"

Their eyes met and Crouch leaned down, catching her lips with his. If Bellatrix felt something, she fought hard against it. With so many things changing, she couldn't lose herself in this one. They held the kiss until Crouch broke it, staring into her eyes just the same before he kissed her.

"How could I betray you, my love?" He said.

"Master Crouch." The house elf had returned. Bellatrix lowered her wand, allowing Crouch to address the house elf.

"Yes?"

"Your room is ready, whenever you are sir." Responded the elf.

The man nodded. "I'll be there in a moment." He stepped out of the space Bellatrix had him in and walked towards the door.

"Lucius will be bringing the boy home tomorrow. Remember the mission." And he stepped out of the room, leaving Bellatrix alone. The witch didn't respond but returned to her view of the garden below. It was covered in white roses—her favorite. The color of purity—a reminder of a blank canvas. You could do whatever you wanted—make it blue, or red, or purple. She had the ability to change it however she liked. And that's why she loved it. She had the control.

 _You have the control._ She heard Crouch's voice say. As she stared from her window, the witch found herself humming the tune Crouch sung throughout the prison as they escaped.

" _There are no Strings on me."_

* * *

The train ride home for the Christmas holidays was the most awkward ride yet. Theodore, Neville, and Draco rode in their usual compartment together. Ron had chosen to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. The three boys hadn't seen Hermione nor Tobias since the fight that broke out yesterday in the Slytherin common room. Draco had done his best mending his wounds, but there was still evidence that he had taken a bad beating. He had already created his story about how he received his injuries at one of the Quidditch games. It was one of the easiest decisions he would make this whole holiday.

Theodore refused to look at Draco. The boy really hadn't said much since yesterday. Everything happened so fast—one moment he was trying to pull Tobias off Draco, the next he woke up in his bed upstairs. He came downstairs only to find Draco alone, staring at a bloodied rag. Hermione was gone, Tobias was gone. And even when Theodore tried to ask the blonde Slytherin where they went, Draco had no response. The day wasn't supposed to end like this. They were split once more. But this time there were no sides to choose. No way to mend their friendship. This was the end.

Neville had been unusually quiet as well. He left the Slytherin common room once Ron had woken up and the two had both walked back to Gryffindor Tower. The boy could tell that Ron was upset, but Neville was afraid to ask him why. There were so many reasons. It could've been the fact that Draco knew the truth about Tobias's father and didn't tell him. Or that Tobias almost ended up killing everyone with his magic. Or that Draco let Hermione leave and didn't even care where she went. Or that nobody knew where Tobias had gone to that night. Or maybe it could have been all of them. All Neville knew that he was afraid—in that one moment, all of his friends showed him a side he had never seen before.

Hermione sat in the compartment with Blaise and surprisingly, Tobias. The dark-haired Slytherin came to their compartment and asked to sit with them. Hermione was surprised that Blaise didn't have a problem with it—seeing as he was the first to speak, allowing the boy to join them. Tobias sat down beside Hermione, resting his head on her shoulder. They didn't speak—they didn't talk about yesterday. Or Draco. Or his anger. But Hermione wondered what was going through his head. She also wondered what was next for them—with the fight ending like it had, the witch had to wonder was there any hope for their friendship.

Blaise sat across from the two—and though he hated the Tobias LeStrange in his timeline, he felt pity for the one in this timeline. This Tobias LeStrange was different—always isolating himself when something went wrong, instead of pulling himself, and his friends, together and figuring their problems out. But here he was, lying his head on Granger's shoulder—wallowing in his anger. When Blaise had found Granger crying yesterday, he took her immediately to the library, where she told him everything that happened previously. Blaise was aware that LeStrange's magic was powerful, but he didn't know it was that powerful.

And as he stared at Granger, he realized that he admired her strength. Her strength to embrace the boy whose magic could blow her into pieces. Her strength to walk away from the only friends she had. It was the things Blaise couldn't do. He didn't walk away from the fact that his friendship with Ginny would never work. It took Ginny walking away for him to realize where he truly belonged. And as he stared at the bushy-haired witch in front of him, he found what Malfoy had seen in her. He found something that could work.

Tobias tried to wipe his mind of everything, but some things are easier said than done. He was tired of fighting, he knew what he had to do. So in the end, he chose to let his anger sit. He chose to let it simmer until he came face to face with Black. And then he would unleash it. But until then he focused on the sound of the Hogwarts Express as it traveled back to King's Cross station. He focused on the rhythm of his blood pumping as drifted into a deep sleep. He focused on Hermione's breathing. It was steady and calm. He was a bit surprised when he found Hermione and Zabini in the same compartment together, but he was too tired to protest. Everything was changing, it was time to accept it.

Back at the castle, Ron isolated himself from everyone, spending the day in the library. He sat on one of the windowsills near the back of the library, watching the snow cover the Hogwarts ground. He felt weak, he felt like a coward. He wasn't strong enough to stop Tobias from wrecking the common room. He woke up in a bed, only to find out it wasn't his. To find out that what happened downstairs wasn't a dream. To find out that Tobias had really done it. That he had hurt his friends through his anger. At that moment he felt it—that this was the end. That their friendship was no more. They were supposed to be different. Ron thought that they were supposed to be better than the previous year—but there were still secrets. And it broke them all. The boy closed his eyes, listening to sound of Hermione's screams and the sounds of the walls shaking, the sounds of glass shattering. And Ron couldn't stop it. No one could stop it.

* * *

Tobias stepped off the Hogwarts express before Hermione and Zabini. He didn't stop to speak—he wanted to avoid a confrontation with Draco and the rest. His goal was to get home. And when he got home, his goal was to train—to prepare himself to fight Black. And then his goal would be to kill him. To bring justice to his father and to be the person his grandfather raised him to be.

Lucius Malfoy escorted him back to LeStrange Manor—Draco had gone to Malfoy Manor with his mother. He wasn't sure where Theodore was staying for the holidays, but he assumed it would be with his father. The Slytherin walked beside the blonde-haired man down the pathway to the front doors of the manor. Lucius knocked once, grinning down lightly at the boy.

"Your Grandfather has a surprise for you Tobias," He said coolly.

Tobias didn't respond, though he felt a bit of excitement at the word "surprise." Maybe it was a new broomstick since his other one got smashed at the last match. Or maybe it wasn't a true surprise but another family heirloom.

But when the doors opened, Tobias found that neither of his guesses was right. He stood frozen in the doorway once realizing the surprise that Malfoy meant. Standing there, he knew exactly who she was. There was no need to ask. She looked exactly the way he remembered her from the Mirror of Erised. There, standing in her silk black robes, was Bellatrix LeStrange.

"Welcome home," She said, her voice soft and motherly. "my son."

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	52. POA14: The Slytherins

Can't write my story  
I'm beyond the archetype  
I won't just conform  
No matter how you shake my core  
'Cause my roots, they run deep, oh

Oh, ye of so little faith  
Don't doubt it, don't doubt it  
Victory is in my veins  
I know it, I know it  
And I will not negotiate  
I'll fight it, I'll fight it  
I will transform

~ Rise x Katy Perry

Chapter 52: The Slytherins

Snape sighed deeply as he stepped foot onto the rubble that was once Azkaban prison. It didn't even look like a wizarding prison had been here. It was unrecognizable. If one hadn't known what it was, they would have thought it was just an island of rocks—or maybe some old building that had been destroyed in a storm. Well, one could say a storm did pass over Azkaban prison—it just wasn't a natural one.

He watched as Lupin and Tonks searched for any survivors, while the rest of the Order scanned the area, trying to figure out what might have happened. But something inside Severus told him that he knew who had done this—he just wasn't ready to be right yet.

He was tired of being right.

"Dead." Tonks said wearily, dragging another body out of the rubble. "All of them dead. Guards, prisoners…everyone."

Lupin didn't say anything—Snape figured he was trying to collect his thoughts. They were all trying to collect their thoughts. All of them had questions battering their brains— _who did this? Why? Did this have something to do with the alternate timeline? Or did this have something to do with Sirius Black? Could Voldemort be behind it? Or could it be all three?_

There was a crack and Kingsley Shacklebot appeared on the grounds—his facial expression as shocked as everyone else's when they first arrived. It had been a while since the last time they'd seen a massacre like this—it felt surreal. The destruction, the dead bodies, the blood—so much blood. It was like time was moving backward instead of forward. There were bodies on top of bodies—prisoners and guards alike. Whoever had done this wanted to make sure there were no witnesses.

Arthur Weasley made his way back to the front of the island—in his hand a dirty pillow sack. His face was filled with emotion—anger, fear, hopelessness. He looked as if his family had died, like there was nothing else in this world to live for. But whoever had done this, one could say his family was as good as dead. In all honesty, everyone was as good as dead now.

"Any word from the Ministry?" He called out, trying to disguise his trembling voice with a sense of strength.

Kingsley shook his head. "Fudge isn't saying anything."

"Of course he isn't." Snape said bluntly. _Why would he?_ The man thought. If anything, Fudge may have known about the attack. Or maybe he didn't. But everyone knew what was at stake here—the alternate timeline, the worsening of events. But who knew it would get this bad so fast? Who knew that they would be standing in the midst of a prison massacre—with no idea on who could have done it, and with no idea of what was to come next?

"What about Lucius?" Arthur asked.

"He was at the Ministry with me." Kingsley responded. "We had to complete his paperwork—he had just come off probation."

"I found them." Called a voice. Snape recognized it as Mad-Eye's, who had gone into the deeper part of the destruction to search for survivors. The rest of the Order members watched as he levitated two bodies over the debris towards the clearer part of the island. While they watched, Snape hoped that they were alive. Someone had to be—otherwise…

"What's that?" Mad-Eye grunted, pointing towards the sack in Arthur's hand.

"Broken wands." The red-haired man called back, not even bothering to lift up the sack, or even look inside once more. "Hundreds of them. All broken in pieces."

Kingsley shook his head. "Whoever did this—they planned ahead. This was too well thought out."

"I agree." Said Mad-Eye, who was now closer. He dropped his wand, allowing the bodies to fall gracefully on the dirty sand. Snape couldn't take his eyes away from the bodies—a man and a woman. One dressed in Ministry clothing, another in an Azkaban uniform. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the number: V11981.

"No." Tonks whispered, her hand covering her mouth. There on the sand laid Bartemius Crouch Sr. and his wife…both dead. At that moment, Snape knew exactly who had done this.

"Crouch." He growled. He snapped his head at the bodies, trying to recall seeing his old colleague's body. He walked swiftly through the piles, trying to search for her—it was so many of them.

Lupin followed him. "Crouch? What about Crouch?"

"He is responsible for this." Snape responded, not turning around to face the other wizard. His heart was racing—he knew Crouch hadn't done this alone. And he was afraid he knew exactly who else was responsible. _Salazar, please let me be wrong._

"The number on the uniform," Kingsley called from behind, "This is Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s prison number. But….how?"

"Polyjuice potion seems like." Mad-Eye grunted.

"But why?" asked Arthur. "Why would Crouch and his mother switch places?"

"Too late to ask now." Mad-Eye said, but Snape could barely hear him. He was too far down the island with Lupin on his tail. Despite Lupin's many attempts to get his attention, Snape ignored all of them. _Crouch, what have you done?_

"Severus, who are you looking for?!" Remus yelled behind him. Again Snape ignored him. It was obvious—well obvious for him. Being a spy had its perks—you knew everything about everyone. But that blessing came with a curse, a curse that put the wizard in the middle of so many situations—situations such as these. If he knew Crouch, he knew that he wouldn't have done this without her. He loved her—he would have set her free.

His thoughts led him to the end of the piles of dead bodies, his search unsuccessful. He felt his last sliver of hope drain away. He didn't say a thing, he didn't know what to say. He didn't turn around to face Lupin, he didn't want to answer the question battering the man's brain. He only looked across the island, watching the waves ripple through the ocean.

"Severus…" Lupin said once more, his voice less demanding. "Who—"

"Bellatrix." That was all he said. "He took Bellatrix with him."

"And took her where?"

Snape finally turned around, staring into the wizard's eyes. _You know where he took her._ He said in his mind, hoping that Remus would catch on. Where else would you take Bellatrix LeStrange? After all this time?

Lupin's eyes widened in realization. "Fuck." He said under his breath, raising his hands behind his head.

* * *

 _The woman was a lighter color than him, and she had unruly, curly black hair. She wore jet black robes and black heeled boots. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning either. She just looked intently at Tobias on the other side of the mirror._

It was like standing in the Mirror of Erised all over again. But this time there was no mirror. This wasn't a deserted classroom hidden in the deepest part of the Hogwarts Castle. This was LeStrange Manor—and this was his mother. _His mother._

"Well, aren't you going to say something, darling?" She said. Tobias opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to run up and hug her—like Theo would with his mother. A part of him wanted to say something sweet and clever—like Draco would. But none of those felt right.

But why? This was his mother. It didn't matter that this was his first time meeting her in person, this was his _mother._ He had to feel something. Some desire to want to embrace her. But yet this didn't feel right.

Tobias tensed when he felt someone grab his hands. While trapped in his thoughts, his mother had walked over and intertwined her fingers with his. Once realizing, he immediately took her hand, but nothing. There was no electricity, no sense of belonging. If anything, it felt as their magic was repelling each other. But nonetheless, he took it. He allowed Bellatrix LeStrange to guide him up the steps, no doubt to his grandfather's study. Lucius Malfoy trailed behind them, along with the two house elves that were ordered to carry Tobias's belongings to his room.

As they walked up the spiral staircase, the next few thoughts that went through the Slytherin's head was: _Did she know?_ Did she know who was responsible for the death of her husband? Did she know that Sirius Black, her cousin and possibly one of her closest friends, was responsible for her child growing up without his father? And most importantly, did she know her only son was about to avenge his death?

The door opened to his grandfather's study before Tobias could contemplate those answers. There he found a very weak and pale Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, sitting at the desk in the middle of the study. Tobias refused to stare at him for so long, diverting his attention to the LeStrange family portrait on the wall behind the dark wizard. After a few seconds, he also found himself unable to keep his focus on the portrait. He had starred at this same photograph since he was a baby—he worshiped this photo. It was his destiny—his deepest desire. But now that it was here—it didn't feel as glorious. Everything that had happened before the end of school—this was supposed to be the light at the end of the tunnel. Yet everything felt as it was—maybe even worse.

"Tobias," His grandfather said. "Sit."

Tobias nodded, sliding his hand out of his mother's grip. He sat at the other end of the desk, oddly feeling relieved that he wasn't holding his mother's hand anymore. He felt his magic return to its normal state.

"Bella, would you mind leaving us alone for a minute? I would like to speak to my grandson in private."

Tobias did not turn around to see his mother's reaction, but heard a polite "of course" and the light shutting of the study door. His mind immediately went to the questions he had been dying to ask since he stepped foot in the manor. And he wasn't leaving until he received answers.

He stared into the eyes of his grandfather, waiting for the great wizard to speak first. It wouldn't be a surprise, but what if his grandfather already knew that Tobias knew the truth? What if that's what he wanted to talk about? Maybe he would try to explain to Tobias why he wanted to keep it a secret. Or maybe he wanted to ensure that the boy would keep his mouth shut, and not tell his mother.

Tom Riddle cleared his throat. "You don't look happy to see her—your mother."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Lucius wanted it to be a surprise," said Riddle, shaking his head. "I told it would be a terrible idea—"

"No." Tobias interrupted him. His grandfather did not react to the interruption, but Tobias knew he had overstepped. He also did not care.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth? About my father?"

"I told you the truth, Tobias," his grandfather said irritably. "He died during the war."

"But why didn't you tell me it was Sirius Black who killed him?"

Lord Voldemort did not have an immediate answer for that question. The wizard sat back in his seat, eyeing the boy carefully. How did he find out about Black? And what else did he know? He could see the emotions battling in Tobias's eyes—the green versus the red.

Voldemort sighed. "I knew you would find out soon enough."

"Why did you hide it from me?" Tobias asked, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair he was sitting in. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie to you, my grandson. I was protecting you from a truth that I knew you wouldn't be able to handle at a young age."

The boy groaned. "Why does everyone _keep saying that_? I don't need protection, grandfather."

"Say what you will, but you are still my responsibility. Had I told you the truth, you wouldn't have even stepped on the platform to board the train to Hogwarts. You would have been knee deep in some field looking for someone you know nothing about. Someone whose power you've had no experience battling against."

Tobias was silent as his grandfather spoke. He didn't care that he didn't know anything about Sirius Black, or that he was set to second in line to his grandfather's throne. He didn't care about Black's power—he only cared about avenging his father. To return the favor Black had given his father. A life for a life.

"You have great power, Tobias, but it only manifests from emotion. Black can conjure up that same power in his sleep. You aren't ready for that."

"When will I be?!" said the boy, his frustration peaking. "I do all this extra training, extra studying. For what?! I'm ready, grandfather."

Voldemort shook his head. "You aren't. You have no patience. You're still a child. Your strength comes from your raw magic, but you can't even control it. Black will murder you before you even cast your first spell."

There was a loud scraping noise, and Tobias was now standing up, his fist balled. "Then teach me. Teach me what I need to know to defeat Black. Let me avenge my father."

"No."

The Slytherin opened his mouth to argue but closed it. He could see now that there was no use in pushing the issue. His grandfather wasn't going to budge. Though the tone of his grandfather's 'no' was definite, Tobias refused to take no for an answer. If his grandfather wasn't going to help him, he was going to have to help himself.

Tobias said nothing as he turned to walk out of the study, closing the door behind him. He stood in the hall, trying to gather his thoughts. He wasn't sure where his mother went and he didn't have the energy, nor the patience, to go find her. For that reason, he went straight to his room, where his thoughts about his father were once again interrupted.

He opened the door to find his brown-haired best friend sitting on top of his bed, flipping through the pages of what seemed to be the _Monster Book of Monsters._

"Theo?" Tobias said slowly, blinking to make sure he was seeing correctly. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Language, Mister LeStrange." Theodore then looked up, meeting eyes with the Slytherin. "And if you must know, I'm here for the holidays, duh."

"But I thought—you—didn't you go home?"

"Yep."

Tobias blinked again. He closed his eyes, hoping that this wasn't another runaway situation. "Theo, please tell me you didn't run away again."

"Can't run away if nobody knew you were coming home in the first place." Theo chuckled, flipping another page.

Tobias walked over, snatching the book out of the other boy's view.

"Oi! I was reading that!"

"I don't care." Tobias said sternly. "Theo, you can't keep doing this."

"Actually, I can." Theodore said, leaning back onto the pillows. "Mister Riddle gave me my own room and everything."

"I'm not talking about staying here. I'm talking about your parents thinking you're one place, and you end up being in another."

The other boy rolled his eyes. "I hardly doubt that my father will throw a fit. He didn't even come to look for me last time—he sent you and Draco."

"At least you have a father who sends people to look for you." Tobias shot back. Theodore frowned, catching the attitude in Tobias's voice. He sat up, meeting his best friend's gaze once more.

"So that is what this is about?" he said. "Your father."

Tobias didn't say anything but finally nodded. He plopped down on the bed next to Theo, his eyes focusing on the ceiling above them.

"You know what he told me, Theo?" said Tobias. "He said he was trying to protect me. The same crackpot story Draco gave me. What do I need protection from anyway?"

"Have we forgotten that Sirius Black is a notorious murderer who escaped from Azkaban?"

"I'm serious."

Theodore snorted. "Me too, pal. You heard what Fudge said in Hogsmeade. There's a lot of stuff we don't know about him. And the things we thought we knew…." He trailed off.

Tobias sighed.

"I hate to say it—but I don't think you should go after him by yourself. Black's not worth dying for, Tobias."

At those words, the other Slytherin boy turned to look at his friend. Out of everyone, Theo was the last person Tobias had expected to be against his revenge plot.

"Then what should I do?" He asked his friend. "Wait for the dementors to catch him?" There was a small scoff before Tobias turned his head back to the ceiling.

"Merlin no." Theodore said.

"Then what?"

"We kill him."

Tobias suddenly sat up, his brain running in circles. He down at the brown haired Slytherin, trying to comprehend what he had just said.

"Theo, you just said I shouldn't go after him by myself."

Theodore nodded. "Exactly. But you're missing the keyword— _We._ _We_ should kill him. Together."

Tobias didn't know what to say. He honestly thought Theodore was against him on this. Theodore sat up as well, his eyes meeting Tobias's green ones.

"Black can't take on the two of us at one time."

The thought dawned on the Slytherin heir. Black would be expecting Tobias to come after him, but not Theo. They could surprise him. Ambush him. Tobias could finally give the justice his father deserved. He didn't have to do it by himself. But then something else came to mind.

"I can't let you do that, Theo." He said. "If Black is as dangerous as everyone says he is, you would be risking your life for me."

The other boy shrugged. "I've done it before."

"But those times were different. We knew what we were going up against—plus we had four other people by our side. This time we are on our own."

Theo pondered the words " _on our own._ " It thrilled him but frightened him at the same time. These last few adventures, Theo had been stuck on the lighter side of the situation as opposed to Tobias, who always took on the hardest battles. Tobias, the one who faced Quirrell on his own in the third-floor corridor. The one who battled against his grandfather's evil younger self. It thrilled him to be able to make this journey with Tobias, but what if this time they weren't so lucky? What if he did something that would cost them their life?

"Then it's a risk I'm willing to take." He finally said. "You're one of my best friends, Tobias. Wherever you go, I go. You jump, I jump."

Tobias nodded, a small smile coming across his face. "Then it's settled. We're going after Sirius Black."

* * *

 _Dear Mr. Hagrid,_

 _Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident._

 _However, we must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mrs. Talia Zabini, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20_ _th_ _, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated._

 _Yours in fellowship…._

Ron didn't bother to read the rest. Out of all the things that had happened so far, this was the icing on the cake. He didn't know what to say, only passing the letter back to Hagrid as the great giant wiped the small tears that were falling down his cheeks. His eyes were red and puffy when Ron arrived that evening, and now the red-haired boy wished he hadn't asked what was wrong.

"You shouldn't worry about this, Hagrid." He said firmly. "Like you told us before, Buckbeak isn't a bad hippogriff. He'll get off. You'll just have to put a good strong defense."

Hagrid shook his head fiercely. "Yeh don't know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures! They've got it in fer interestin' creatures like Buckbeak!"

At the name Buckbeak, there was a loud shuffle coming from the corner of Hagrid's hut. Ron turned to see the grey hippogriff lying in the corner, eating what seemed to be a live Chicken—it's blood oozing all over the floor.

"I could' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" Hagrid said, obnoxiously blowing his nose with his handkerchief. "All on his own! At Christmas!"

"What about Dumbledore?"

The giant shook his head. "He's done more'n enough fer me already. Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around-"

Ron sighed. Though he and Hagrid never saw eye to eye with the kind of creatures Hagrid like to keep around, he felt bad for Buckbeak. It was Zabini who aggravated him, causing him to lash out like that. Now he was being held trial by a Committee who literally hated creatures. If he had to admit it, Buckbeak was Ron's favorite creature—it was certainly calmer than a fire-breathing dragon, an angry three-headed dog, and a giant man-eating spider.

"I want to help you, Hagrid." Ron said suddenly. "I want to help you and Buckbeak."

"Yer don' have ter do that fer me."

"But I want to. And I can get Hermione to help. We were witnesses—we saw Zabini insult Buckbeak." He looked out the window then back at Hagrid. "How about I make you some tea?"

Hagrid frowned. "Tea?"

"It's what my mum does when someone's upset." The red- haired Gryffindor shrugged.

And Ron did just that. He felt a bit uncomfortable cheering Hagrid up by himself. It usually took Tobias's reassurance, Theo's humor, Draco's aggressiveness, Neville's kindness, and Hermione's brains to get Hagrid to turn his mood. This time Ron had to do it himself—not just for Hagrid, but for himself too.

"Yer right." Hagrid said after a few sips of tea, and a few more reassuring statements from Ron. "I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull myself together…I've not been myself lately. Been too worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes-" Ron immediately turned red at this. "An' don' forget them dementors."

As the giant shuddered at the word, the Gryffindor boy couldn't help but do the same. He couldn't imagine how Hagrid felt, being around the dementors again when just last year he had been sent to Azkaban. Ron was tempted to ask him what it was like, but thought better of it.

"But enough abou' me?" Hagrid said, wiping his nose once more. "How abou' you? Where's everyone?"

"Home." Ron said shortly. He then sighed, realizing his tone. "It happened again, Hagrid. We've all split up-again."

Hagrid set down his cup of tea. " _No._ " From the sound of his voice, Hagrid sounded concerned—like he had completely forgotten about Buckbeak. "What happened?"

"Tobias found out that Sirius Black killed his father, and that Draco knew about and never told him. They had a huge fight in the Slytherin Common room. I haven't seen Tobias or Hermione since."

Hagrid frowned, his heart was literally breaking at the news. He as much hope for this group as Dumbledore did when he first put them all together. The first time they fell apart, Hagrid knew they would be together once again—their friendship stronger than before. But this time, it didn't feel that way. The way Ron said it—there was no returning.

"Is it awful in there, Hagrid?" The boy asked suddenly. "Azkaban?"

Hagrid sighed. "Yeh've no idea. Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind…the day I got expelled from Hogwarts…day me dad died…the day I had ter let Norbert go…"

Ron sniffed. "It feels that way now. Like one bad thing leads to another. Everyone's going mad…Tobias almost destroyed the whole common room. This whole school year has been nothing but terrible after terrible…I can't think of anything else."

"Things lik' that do sum to yeh." Hagrid continued, his tone quiet and almost depressing. "Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep…When they let me out, it was the bes' feelin' in the world."

Ron sat there, staring into his cup of tea. He thought about what Hagrid just said. About not being able to really remember who you were. Ron was starting to feel that way about his friends. He didn't really know who they were anymore. They were lying to each other. They were fighting each other. It didn't seem as they could ever fix their friendship. Draco had hurt Hermione one too many times. There was no chance of Tobias talking to Draco again. Neville seemed afraid of everyone. It was just him and Theo, and even Theo was seeming different. Even now, Ron didn't know what to feel about the situation. A part of him wanted to bring all his friends back together, but something inside of him told him that this was the end.

"Hagrid."

"Hm?"

"I'm ready to be born again, too."

* * *

Draco stood on the balcony of Malfoy Manor, watching as the house elves moved about the front yard, setting up the holiday decorations for Christmas. There was a sting in his chest as he watched the small elves work. He was expecting to see Theodore pop out from behind one of the decorated Christmas trees, frightening the elves so badly they couldn't complete their work. He expected to see Tobias, as unorthodox as it was, sneaking to help the elves put up the Christmas decorations. But there were no little elfish screams. No raven-haired boy creeping across the grounds with a handful of Christmas ornaments. It was a silent, white Christmas.

If the blonde haired Slytherin had to admit it, he was having conflicting feelings about the whole situation. He knew he did what he thought was the right thing, yet it felt so wrong inside. Maybe it was the fact that he had ruined his friendship with Tobias. Or maybe he felt guilty about the things he said to Hermione. Maybe it was the fact that Theo and Ron wouldn't talk to him, and that Neville seemed afraid of him. Maybe those were the reasons he felt so bad. He knew what telling Tobias meant. If the Slytherin had learned anything from his ex-best friend, he learned that the boy was always ready for adventure. If he had learned the truth about his father sooner, Tobias could possibly be dead by now—murdered by Sirius Black. It had always been that way. But suddenly, there was a part of him that wished he told Tobias sooner. Because now he was alone.

"Draco," He heard a soft voice behind him. "Sweetheart, what are you doing out in the cold?"

Draco recognized the voice as his mother's. "Just wanted some fresh air."

He heard the soft click of heels walk up beside him, his mother appearing in his peripheral. She stared out onto the grounds as well, watching the house elves finish up the holiday décor. Draco had a feeling she knew what was going on in his head, it was a part of her charm. He could feel her touch inside his mind—that connection. She knew that he felt guilty about something. Draco knew she wouldn't dig deeper to find out what he was feeling guilty about—that part was up to him.

"Tobias found out the truth, mother." He said. "About his father."

"And you feel like it is your fault?"

The boy shrugged, not knowing how to express his feelings. "I feel like I could have done something different. Maybe I should have told him. I don't know." He crossed his arms on the balcony rail, sighing deeply as he set his head down on top of his arms.

"And why didn't you tell him?" His mother asked.

Draco didn't answer at first, but Narcissa Malfoy already knew his answer. It was the same answer as his father's. She knew she had no control over Lucius, but Draco's views she could change.

"I thought I was protecting him." Her son said weakly, shrugging. "I was scared of what would happen if he found out."

Narcissa turned towards her son, her demeanor calm, and understanding. "Scared for him? Or scared for you?"

That was the question Draco was having difficulties answering. Of course, he knew the answer. It had been nagging him ever since Tobias found out. He had tried so hard to make himself believe that he was doing the right thing. In the end, he was lying to himself.

"For me." He admitted. "I was scared that he would turn against me. That he would go after Black, and that Black…." He trailed off. "I was scared to lose my best friend."

For the first time since everything happened, tears started to form in Draco's eyes. And once they started, they wouldn't stop. He thought about his fight with Tobias—how hurt he looked when he saw Draco. He thought about Hermione, and the things he said to her. He tried to stop the tears once he felt his mother's hand on his back, trying to soothe him.

"Every secret has a consequence, Draco." Said Narcissa, her voice still as calm as before. "But what have I always told you?"

It broke her heart to see her son like this. This was her only son—if anything was to happen to him, she wasn't sure what she would do. She felt a sense of relief as the gray eyes of her son met the blue ones of her own. It was as if she was seeing her son for the first time. For so long she worried that Draco would end up like Lucius, and for a second, he almost became his father. But looking at him right now, watching how his secrets were tearing him apart—she knew that he would be something completely different.

"Family first." The blonde-Slytherin said.

* * *

"And then he said I would never understand because I'm not like them—I'm not pureblood."

This had been one of the few times Pansy Parkinson had seen Hermione Granger cry. It infuriated the Slytherin witch to no end to know that it was Malfoy who was the cause of it. She thought the blonde- haired git would have learned from the situation that happened last year. But apparently, you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

The two girls were sitting on Hermione's bed. Pansy had noticed that the six friends weren't sitting together on the train and was alarmed when the word got around that Hermione, Tobias, _and_ Blaise was sitting in the same compartment. With Daphne's suspicion battering the girl's mind, she immediately went to Granger first to see what was going on. Mrs. Granger was eager to let the girl in, seeing as Pansy was the only girl friend that the Gryffindor witch had.

"He's being stupid." She said bluntly. "Like always. You should've hexed him."

The other girl sniffed. "He sounded serious. Like he truly believed that what he did was the right thing."

"Because that's what boys do. They think they're right all the time—and then when they're wrong, they'll do anything to believe that they're still right. My father does it all the time."

Hermione sniffed again. Talking to Pansy about what happened the other day made all her emotions come back to the surface. She had never felt so little in her life—not even when she came to Hogwarts and Zabini found out about her being muggleborn. Because she always had her friends—she always had Draco, Tobias, Ron, Theo, and Neville. They were always there to defend her, to prove that she was important. But to hear Draco say those things, it broke her spirit. It hurt.

"Has he even apologized?" Pansy asked, crossing her arms.

Hermione shook her head. "No. Well, he tried, I think, but I didn't give him the chance." The girl then sat up. "Do you think I should talk to him?"

"No." The other girl said immediately, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. He needs to come talk to you. And anyway," Pansy raised an eyebrow. "It looks like you've found another Slytherin to occupy your time."

Daphne's suspicions were starting to come reality when the Slytherin girl saw Hermione's cheeks turn a deep red. _So it was true._ Because of the situation, Pansy didn't know whether to commend the Gryffindor witch or check her brain.

" _Granger..."_

"We're just friends." The girl blurted out, her cheeks turning even redder.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You don't even know what I was about to say. Don't you want to know how I found out?"

This question peaked Hermione's interest. How did Pansy find out? The only one who knew about Hermione's and Blaise's new friendship was Tobias, and he didn't seem to care much about it. The two made sure they were alone when they met up, and they made sure to continue their "hatred" towards each other in school. So how did Pansy know?

"You and Zabini," said the raven-haired girl. "I don't know what you two have going on, but apparently, you guys aren't hiding it very well. Daphne found out."

Hermione closed her eyes, her head falling into her hands. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Pansy sighed. "Well, I didn't want to be the one to tell you. But now you have to be completely honest with me Granger, what's going on? All this time, you and Zabini have hated each other—now you're _friends?_ "

Hermione sighed—this was not what she wanted. No one was supposed to find out about her and Zabini. Because finding out about them meant finding out about the time turners. And that meant finding out that not only she had been going back in time, but Zabini too. And that would mean exposing Zabini for who he truly was, a person from an alternate timeline. She had two options: either lie or tell the truth. Lying would have been easier, but what would she say? And anyway, she was tired of lying. This was what had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

"Zabini and I are friends, because," the Gryffindor witch swallowed hard. "Because he isn't the Zabini that we know."

She looked up and noticed that Pansy's face had fallen into a frown. "And that means what? Is he changed? I'm not trying to be rude, Hermione, but that hardly makes up for the past two years that he's literally hated you."

Hermione shook her head. "No. He hasn't changed. This Zabini isn't the Zabini we know."

"You've said that twice already."

"Pansy," This time Hermione took a deep breath. She literally wanted to die, right now in this moment. "Have you ever heard of a time master?"

The Slytherin girl frowned even deeper. "Yeah. I heard my father talking about them one night. There's only like two in the whole world. Wait. Why?"

"Zabini has one. And Voldemort…You-Know-Who made him use it to go back to the past and change some things. And when Blaise came back, the world he once knew was completely different. Everything was changed."

"Even him?"

Hermione sighed, this was going to be harder than she thought. After what seemed like 30 minutes of explaining and questions, the Gryffindor witch was finally able to get through to Pansy. At times, she grew nervous, but the Slytherin's face remained calm and understanding.

"So let me get this straight," Pansy finally said, rubbing her temples with two fingers. "Zabini made an alternate timeline, which is what we're living in now, and he's the only one who remembers the original…and the longer we stay here, the more it'll get worse and we might die?"

Hermione went red again. "Basically. But we're trying to fix it, Zabini and me. That's why we've been together a lot."

"Does Ginny know? Her and Zabini are dating, aren't they?" Pansy then narrowed her eyes, thinking about how Tobias still liked Ginny. " _Secretly,_ however."

"No." The other witch shook her head. "She found out about the time travel thing. Zabini said she's upset that he isn't the Blaise that she knew before."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"But now that Daphne knows, Ginny will find out soon, as well as the rest of the school."

"And don't forget, Malfoy."

The Gryffindor witch let out a groan, falling back against her bedroom pillows. In a few days, the whole school would probably find out about her and Zabini. She didn't care about the rest of the school, only Draco and Ginny. She knew the Weasley girl had a temper, and she had created her own set of hexes just for that occasion. Draco was different—Hermione knew that his jealousy would take over and no doubt he would go after Zabini himself. And even with all that swirling in her brain, another question put the icing on the cake.

"Do you like him?" She heard Pansy's voice say. "Zabini?"

Hermione immediately sat up. " _NO!_ " But then she thought about it, blushing again. "I mean, I don't want to. But this Zabini, he's different."

Pansy nodded. Though she hated Zabini with every fiber of her body, whether this was the actual Blaise Zabini they knew or some alternate one, she cared about Hermione more. She didn't like the idea that the two were sneaking around, even if they were trying to fix this screwed up timeline. But she was sick of Malfoy treating Hermione as if she wasn't important, and she was definitely sick of having the same conversations over and over again. She sighed deeply, running a hand through her black hair.

"Are you sure he's different? That this isn't some type of trick?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure."

"Okay then, Granger." Pansy said, "This is what we're going to do."

* * *

 _"Pureblood."_ He whispered, and the wall to the Slytherin common room opened at his command. He didn't bother changing into his canine form—the dementors were gone. The Order was gone. No one was patrolling the halls. He was free to roam.

He stepped slowly inside of the Slytherin common room, the present in his hand. He took in his surroundings, he couldn't remember the last time he stood here—if he had even stood here before. It was ironic, his whole family had been sorted into Slytherin and yet he was chosen for Gryffindor. This room should have felt familiar to him, yet it repelled him—he didn't belong here.

Yet, his godson found some way to call this place home. He walked deeper into the room, his heels clicking on the stone gray floor. The room glowed an emerald green—the Emerald City of Hogwarts. A slow fire burned in the fireplace, making the room warmer than he thought it could be. He ran his fingers along the black leather couches, the hardwood tables and chairs, the soft cotton material of the rugs.

His eyes ran across the photos of previous Slytherin students. They were smiling, laughing, joking—things people thought Slytherins couldn't do. He recognized familiar faces, people he once hated. People he had fought against. People who didn't make it past the first battle. Seeing them now, in a form he had never thought possible, it broke his heart. Because of Harry.

He had seen these people—these Slytherins—as enemies, when all along they were just like him. He had only found out too late. He had fought against them, plotted against them, discriminated against them because of the house they were sorted in—instead of who they were inside. They were all kids back then—full of life, hope, and joy.

He didn't want that for his godson because he knew who he truly was. But what about those who didn't. Those who would fight against him? Those who would plot against him? Those who would discriminate against him? Those who wouldn't stop fighting until he was dead? Just because of the colors he wore on his tie, and not what was in his heart.

He heard the wrapping paper crumple and realized that his grip had increased on his godson's present. He forced out a laugh, trying not to choke on his tears. He couldn't believe it—he was tearing up for Slytherin. After all this time, he finally understood.

His final stop was the silver and green Christmas tree standing in the corner of the room. He laughed once more, once expecting the tree to be covered in coal. But he found the tree surrounded by hundreds of gifts, each one addressed to someone in the Slytherin house. He knelt down, reading each name, recognizing the surname of each child. Names that reminded him of those who were still here, and those who weren't so fortunate. He set his present down amongst the rest of them.

"Merry Christmas, Tobias." He whispered.

* * *

 _To my dearest grandson,_

 _By the time you read this I will be gone. Physically but not spiritually. I know that you, Tobias, will live through me. All is not lost, it is just beginning. And it begins with you. Now is the time for you to take my place, to hold up the mantle that I have been building for you. There will be those who will try to shade you away from your destiny. Do not let them. There will be those who will challenge you to your throne. Do not let them win. You must be strong without me. You are all we have left. As long as my blood runs through you, you have the power to achieve great things, Tobias. You are the heir of the Dark Lord. The Heir of Lord Voldemort._

 _For Magic is Might._

Lord Voldemort handed the letter to Crouch, who tucked it away in his robes. He looked around the room, taking in the faces of his faithful followers for the last time. They stood strong at his side, and he expected nothing less. He saw uncertainty on their faces, all of them unsure of what would happen next. What would they do without him?

"Are—are you sure you want to this tonight my Lord?" Yaxley asked.

"Now is the best time as any." The Dark Lord responded. "I have secured my heir's future, as well as my empire. There is nothing left for me to do."

Darian Zabini spoke next. "What would we do without your leadership? You brought us together—all of us."

There were nods from the other followers. The Dark Lord looked amongst them, remembering their faces those many years ago when he found them. They were lost—and he brought them together, bringing out their full potential. Making them men that others would fear. He had created them, all of them. This…family.

"You will grow stronger. We will be more powerful than we have ever been before."

He stood amongst them, his stance strong—for the last time. They stared at him as if he was still the young, strong Lord Voldemort that stood before them for years. It gave him pride, it made him believe that this was the right thing to do. There were no tears, no sad speeches—he wouldn't allow such weakness. He looked at them all—Zabini, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Bellatrix, Crouch, Nott. He frowned a bit, noticing that one of his close followers was not in attendance.

"Your wand, my Lord." Crouch said, his hand opened for the object. The Dark Lord laid it calmly in his hand, accepting his faith.

"Make sure he receives his letter." He said. He turned back to his followers once more. "This is not the end. Only the beginning."

"For Magic is Might."

The rest raised their wands. "For Magic is might."

There was silence as Crouch pulled out his own wand, aiming it slowly at his master. He had used the curse so many times before. But never did he think he we use it against the man who taught it to him. Who taught him everything he had ever known. His master, his creator.

He heard his master speak for the last time. "Say it, Crouch."

" _Avada Kedavra."_

There was a blinding green light, and then nothing. No one moved as their master's body disintegrated before their eyes. There was only a pile of ashes that laid where he once stood. A brush of wind flew past them, and then out of the bedroom window. And it was over. It was done. Lord Voldemort was dead.

No one turned when to doors burst opened. Crouch lifted his head, meeting the black, beady eyes of Severus Snape.

"Crouch!" The man yelled. "What have you done?!"

"Expelliarmus." Caught off guard, Snape's wand flew out of his hand, landing on the other side of the room. Crouch looked back down at the ashes of his former master, gripping his wand in his hand. "Take him."

"No!" He heard footsteps and Snape's screams. But he didn't care. This moment started a new regime.

"NO! CROUCH!" Snape fought harder, screamed louder, but no one would help him. "CROUCHHHHH!"

Moments later the door slammed shut once more, the man's voice echoing down the hall. Crouch took Bellatrix's hand, using his wand to gather the ashes of Lord Voldemort, conjuring up a black vase to keep them in. He looked down at the witch, her eyes threatening to water with tears.

"We will finish what he started." He said. "Together."

The witch nodded. "What about the rest?"

"They are loose ends. Time to get rid of them."

* * *

The two men sat on each side of the room. Quirrell took advantage of the silence between them, trying to gather his thoughts. He was now in danger—he knew they would do anything to get to him.

"They will come after you now." Dumbledore said. "With Voldemort gone, they will want to get rid of loose ends."

"Let them try."

 **Author's Note: This Chapter was long overdue. Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	53. POA15: What We Will Become

Cold enough to chill my bones  
It feels like I don't know you anymore  
I don't understand why you're so cold to me  
With every breath you breathe  
I see there's something going on  
I don't understand why you're so cold

Cold x Maroon 5

Chapter 53: What We Will Become

"No. No. That's not right."

Blaise balled up another piece of parchment, throwing it on the floor with the rest of the failed letters he had conjured up in the past hour. None of them portrayed the thoughts he wanted to express—none of them conveyed the feelings that he wanted to show. For the Slytherin who could talk his way in—and out—of anything, this was one thing he couldn't slither his way into.

He sighed, dropping his quill. _What am I doing?_ He thought. He should be writing a letter to Ginny, trying to find some way for them to rekindle their friendship. A part of him wanted to—in his world, Ginny was the only friend he had, and it hurt that she had turned him away. So what if he wasn't the Blaise she knew? He needed her—he needed someone. And because of that, he picked up his quill again. He needed to talk to her—the only person who understood him.

Hermione Granger.

It was weird that Granger was the only one who understood him, because in his world Granger was the only person he hated more than Tobias LeStrange. For one, she was a know-it-all. She had to know everything, as if she would die without knowledge of the simplest of information. She was bossy as hell—but who could blame her? Being the only girl in the group of Draco Malfoy, Tobias LeStrange, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, _and_ Ronald Weasley—somebody had to take charge. But if only she kept her bossy ways in the confinement of her friend group. Another thing—she was too good. One could never catch Hermione Granger in a bucket of trouble, and anytime she was caught in the turmoil, she always found some way out of it. Who sneaks a dragon into the school and only gets detention? Who lies about fighting a troll and only gets 5 points taken from their house? It was unorthodox. It was unrealistic.

But here, in this timeline, Granger wasn't like that. In fact, there was something about her that Blaise actually liked. Something that wouldn't remove her from his mind—something that made him forget about Ginny, and how she had hurt him. And it was that same something that brought him to his study, trying to find the right words to tell her.

He grumbled, balling up another piece of parchment. At that same time, an owl approached his window, lightly pecking it to catch the Slytherin's attention. Blaise raised an eyebrow at the creature, not recognizing the owl. He stood up slowly, trying to rack his brain for any mention of a letter being sent. Maybe it was from Ginny. Or maybe it was from her. Before Blaise could decide, his hands were already opening the window, quickly removing the letter from the owl's leg. He unconsciously tossed a galleon to the owl, his heart now racing at the handwriting. She had written him a letter. Hermione Granger had written him a letter.

The Slytherin quickly sat back down at his desk, his curiosity now piqued. His heart stopped for a second. What if this was the answer to what he was feeling? Maybe Granger had written the answer to that "something" Blaise couldn't dislike about her. He then frowned. But what if it wasn't?

He opened the letter slowly, his heart beating triple time—the thousand possibilities for Granger's letter running through his head.

 _Dear Blaise,_

 _I wanted you to know first that I told Pansy about us, and what we are doing. She's agreed to help us keep it a secret from Malfoy and the rest. I had to tell her—Daphne knew we were up to something and if she told Draco, or even Tobias, I don't know what would happen. I know they wouldn't understand._

Blaise wanted to feel upset about this. He really did. Granger couldn't keep a secret to save her life. And to tell Parkinson? Out of all people? Maybe Parkinson wouldn't tell, but based on what happened last year, she would find a way to spill the beans to LeStrange. But then it dawned on him—LeStrange sat with him and Hermione on the train ride back to King's Cross. If anything, it seemed as if he didn't care that Hermione and Blaise were now close. He pushed that thought aside, reading the rest of the letter.

 _I've read more of the time travel book we found in the library the other day. To prevent your clashings from happening, you must stay away from familiar people and situations. I know that sounds barmy, but it's the best we have until we find some way to fix the alternate timeline._

"Well, that won't be an issue." Blaise said under his breath. The last time he had an episode was when he and Ginny were in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It certainly wouldn't be a problem avoiding her. And then it was the memories of LeStrange, who he had been trying to avoid since the dementor attack on the Quidditch pitch. Because of his late-night meetings with Granger, he hadn't been hanging with Crabbe and Goyle much—and maybe he should keep it that way.

 _Overall, I hope you're doing well and staying out of trouble. It feels kind of weird flipping through books without you. If you need anything, I am just an owl away._

 _Love Granger._

Maybe he was overreacting—did Granger just imply that she _missed_ him? He felt his heart flutter, but he tried to push it away. _No. She's just gotten used to studying with me that's all._ But why would she tell him? If Granger felt nothing for him at all, she would've left the letter at the last paragraph. Maybe he was overthinking. But something inside of him told him something else. And the _"Love Granger"_ part? She could have just written _Granger_ or put nothing at all. Did this mean they were officially friends? Or was Granger hinting at something that he wasn't catching?

"Oh, the question game again." He mumbled. But his irritation turned into fascination—his frown transforming into a smile. He pulled out another piece of parchment, dipping his quill back into ink jar. He was going to figure this out—the mystery of Hermione Granger.

* * *

The door to 12 Grimmauld Place open quickly, and was slammed shut before the rest knew anyone had just entered. Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Tonks swiftly withdrew their wands before they realized it was Lupin who had entered the house kitchen. The man looked unrulier than usual, a panicked expression on his face. They knew he hadn't found him.

"Another dead end." He grumbled, plopping down in one of the wooden kitchen chairs. "It's like he disappeared from the face of the Earth."

"He has to be somewhere." Mad-Eye grunted. "Had he gone missing, Death Eaters would have been all over the place. He's Lord Voldemort's most faithful servant."

"But," Tonks shook her head, her eyes falling on Lupin. "Remus's last lead _was_ a Death Eater. If the Death Eaters— "

Kingsley interrupted her. "Whoever Remus talked to could have lied. It's no secret that he is a member of the Order."

"He didn't lie, Kingsley." Lupin said wearily. "He was under veritaserum."

Mad-Eye shook his head frantically, taking a sip from his flask. "So now what? He's a ghost? We just found out Bellatrix LeStrange and Bartemius Crouch Jr. escaped Azkaban, and now he decides to be a no show?"

Tonks bit her lip. "This is a stretch, but is it possible that there is or was another love interest in his life? Other than Lily?"

"You mean Bellatrix?" asked Kingsley. "That wouldn't be a surprise. We all saw the way he acted when he found out Crouch had taken Bellatrix with him. You were with him, Lupin. When he found out? How was he feeling?"

The other man sighed, shrugging hopelessly. "Do we ever know what he is feeling?" He sighed again, noticing that he wasn't helping. "He looked upset. But it was nothing compared to…"

Nobody said anything, everyone knew what Remus wanted to say next. But based on the mountain of problems they were climbing right now—they couldn't add past problems to the list.

"Out of all people." Mad-Eye grunted. "This worse than tracking down Dumbledore."

Kingsley grabbed his coat. "We're going to have to expand the search to the Ministry. He is still a Hogwarts Professor. If we don't tell anyone, parents will start asking questions."

"On the contrary, Kingsley," Lupin pitched in. "We may have more time—seeing as none of the students actually like him."

Mad-Eye sighed. "That's a risk we can't take. Expand the search." The wizard then picked up his cane, limping towards the kitchen door. "Out of all people." He grumbled. "We had to lose bloody Severus Snape. Slippery bastard." Lupin chuckled at that.

"I trust him." Said Kingsley. "If Snape went missing, he probably has a good reason for it. We haven't heard from Voldemort in a few months. Maybe the breakout—it was the beginning of something…"

"Whatever it is." Mad-Eye shot back. "He better tell us the whole story when he gets back. Right now we're in the dark—and I hate being in the dark."

Mad-Eye then walked out of the kitchen, leaving the other three Order members alone. Kingsley left next, his mission to report to the Ministry of Snape's absence. Lupin wasn't sure how much the Ministry could help—half of them were in debt to a few well-known Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy to be exact. Whoever was responsible for Snape's disappearance—even if it was himself—they would try to cover it up. They had no leads—no idea where Snape could have gone. They were in the dark—as so everything else.

* * *

"Why?!" Snape yelled, his hands banging against the bars of the LeStrange Dungeons. He didn't know how he allowed himself to be carried so far, so below the others, when once he was the Dark Lord's right hand man. Double agent or not, something snapped in him when he saw Voldemort ashes on the floor, and Crouch's wand in his hand.

"You're not in any position to be asking questions, Snape." Goyle spat. He then chuckled darkly. "Especially after Crouch gets finished with you."

Snape laughed himself. He felt like he was losing his mind. "C _rouch?_ Do you really think that scares me?"

"It should—" said the other man. His back was now turned, and Snape could hear a slight quiver in his voice. What had Crouch done? What was going on?

The black-haired prisoner closed his eyes—he didn't need magic for what was about to happen next. Whether Goyle felt the man's touch inside his mind, Snape didn't care. He needed to know what Crouch was planning—before it was too late.

 _Malfoy Manor. Midnight. He could barely see the details of the room, but he knew where they were. All of them—sitting at the black marble table. No candles, no dinner plates—the atmosphere felt cold. All of them were there—except him….why?_

 _"Break them out of Azkaban?" Terrance Crabbe asked. "Are you all mad? The place was already heavily guarded, even worse now that Black has broken out!"_

 _Yaxley nodded. "Some of us are still wanted criminals from the war. We just can't waltz into Azkaban. It's suicide."_

 _There were mumbles of agreement, but he didn't focus on that. He focused on who wasn't agreeing—Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, and Voldemort._

 _"Which is why none of us will be stepping foot into Azkaban." Malfoy said coolly._

 _Goyle frowned. "You're expecting them to break out themselves?"_

 _"Yes, in a sense." Answered Nott._

 _"Care to elaborate?"_

 _"I made a deal with Crouch Sr." said Malfoy, his face looking prideful and cunning. "His wife's sickness is growing worse and her last dying wish was to see her son. To see him 'free'."_

 _Crabbe snorted. "And you expect us to trust Crouch? That's his son. You expect us to believe that he'll just hand him over?"_

 _"No." Terrell Nott answered. He intertwined his fingers. "We're actually counting on that."_

 _"You want Crouch to put up a fight?" asked Goyle. "That'll attract the guards—Ministry attention—he'll—"_

 _"End up dead." Lucius interrupted._

 _Yaxley raised a brow. "And you assume this how?"_

 _There was a bang on the table. Zabini had pulled a bottle of greenish-reddish liquid. The audience watched it swirl inside its container. Everyone knew exactly what it was._

 _"Polyjuice potion?" asked Crabbe._

 _"Precisely." Said Nott. With a flick of his wand, the lights in the meeting room went dark, only to be illuminated by blue light. The light formed into a giant piece of parchment—white lines connecting and crisscrossing until the final result formed. A map of Azkaban prison._

Snape opened his eyes. He had been kicked out of Goyle's memories. But the man on the other side of the bars made no reaction to Snape's intrusion. Had he not noticed? Then what was stopping Snape from seeing the rest?

"What did Lucius need Crouch for?" He said, trying to reveal too much of what he learned. "I know you all planned the breakout. Why?"

There was silence. Goyle didn't speak. He didn't turn around to face Severus. It was if the man didn't hear the question at all. What was Goyle hiding?

"You're dismissed, Goyle." Someone said. Snape could hear the light footsteps coming from the top of the staircase. He immediately recognized the voice of Crouch Jr. As the footsteps got closer, Snape's urge to break the bars of the cell grew. The man couldn't help but admit that something snapped inside him when he saw Crouch murder Lord Voldemort. It made him even angrier that he felt something for the Dark Wizard. Lord Voldemort had murdered the woman he loved—kidnapped her son and raised him in his image.

Those thoughts faded as Crouch reached the bottom of the steps, Goyle tensely walked past him, not saying a word. Snape frowned—what he was seeing was the fear Voldemort had over his followers. Yet now they bow to Crouch in the same manner.

The man was wearing a jet-black robe—bulkier than Voldemort's, but with the same tone. Snape could feel the Dark Magic radiating around him—this wasn't an ordinary robe.

"Don't look so surprised, Severus." Said Crouch. "We both knew this would happen one day."

"You killed him." The other man said through gritted teeth.

"I freed him. I freed him from a burden that I now wear."

"A burden that you wear like a crown."

Crouch laughed. "And so I do. But what can I say? Being heir to the throne has its perks."

Snape frowned. "Tobias is heir to the throne."

"Let's be realistic, Severus." He laughed once more. "You think I would entrust the fate of the Dark Lord's kingdom in the hands of a child?"

"That isn't your choice to make."

"Right again. It was the Dark Lord's decision—it was supposed to be you, Severus if you remember. You, the rightful guardian of the boy shall Lord Voldemort perish. But I'm afraid—since you missed the ceremony—the honor was bestowed to me." Crouch smirked.

 _Ceremony?_ It then dawned on Snape. _The Meeting._ The meeting he was just starting to learn about through Goyle's memories. The meeting he knew nothing about. It wouldn't be a surprise if Snape wasn't invited on purpose. But why? If he got out of this, he would see to that answer personally.

"So what does that make you? What happens to Tobias? What happens—"

"I know you have many questions." Crouch interrupted. "And I promise you-you will learn them in due time. _CRUCIO!_ "

There was a loud scream, and Snape recognized it as his own. He hadn't felt the pain of the cruciatus curse in years. It felt like as if he was describing it—a thousand needles seeking into his skin over and over again. Each one moving slowly through the layers of his body—skin, muscle, bone. He couldn't think—he couldn't move. He tried gripping the bars for support—but the more Crouch concentrated—the stronger the curse became.

Snape felt himself fall against the stone floor of the cell. He closed his eyes, trying to fight against the pain. He wanted to think of something—anything that could make him forget about the pain. He tried to picture her red hair—those green eyes…but the curse wouldn't let him.

"AHHHH!" He screamed in frustration. The curse then stopped, leaving him weak and exhausted on the ground. His eyes were still closed as he gasped for air—the urge to fight back rising higher than before. He felt Crouch squat down before him—his black boots just inches away from Snape's face.

"But to answer your first question." He said coolly. "You can call me…Anarchy."

* * *

"Alohomora!" The door unlocked, but not before Quirrell lost his patience and broke down the door himself. His breath stiffened as he stepped inside the mass of destruction that was once his apartment. Chairs had been knocked down, glass was broken, there were scorch marks on the wall. And down the hallway—there was a trail of blood. It glistened in the moonlight that shined through the window—it was still fresh. He was too late.

He pulled out his wand, stepping silently, just incase the intruder decided to stick around. Though he appeared calm, his heart was pounding. He was too late—Dumbledore warned him. But he didn't think—he never thought— _they were supposed to be after me!_ He thought. _Why didn't they come after me?!_ He recognized the smell of burning flesh—from the looks of the room, she had fought back. He prayed to Merlin that she had won. He made his way down the hallway—his heart about to burst. He followed the trail of blood to the last bedroom—his bedroom. He stopped a foot away from the door, gripping his wand, ready for whatever was waiting for him on the other side.

He had seen the lights from the window—he thought it was the television. But then the lights turned from white to green and he immediately felt those assumptions wash away. He ran as fast as he could upstairs. Hoping he would get there in time. Hoping that...

He turned the corner, now putting himself in the doorway of the room. His heart immediately broke. The bedroom looked the same as the living room. The curtains were ripped to shreds—scorch marks on the floor and the walls. The bed had been flipped over—the window had been destroyed, shards of glass sprinkled the floor. And in the middle of it all, she laid. His mother. The trail of blood stopping at her limp body.

Quirrell felt his knees go weak. "No." He said faintly. "No. No. No."

He walked over to her, his legs still weak—he could barely walk. He landed on the ground with a thud, his pants now soaked with blood. He was too late—his was a few moments too late. They had to be watching him—he left for one minute and—

"NOOOOOOO!" He screamed in agony. Dumbledore warned him. _They were supposed to come after me. If anything—I was the traitor. The loose end. Not her._

Quirrell scooped her body into his arms which trembled terribly. He brushed the dusty-brown hair that hid her face away. She had a long scar running down her cheek—Bellatrix's work for sure. He held her—watching as his tears fell against her blue sweater.

"This is my fault." He said against his tears.

He said nothing else. He sat there, his dead mother in his arms. He felt the emotions rush through him—anger, hate, fear, grief. All of them weighed down on his heart. He could feel his spirit being torn apart.

There was a noise, and the man quickly drew his wand, casting a curse towards the intruder. He turned around, only to realize that his intruder was Dumbledore—who didn't look surprised by the scene, but Quirrell could tell he was hurt. He turned back to his mother, not wanting to face the old wizard any longer.

"Quirinus." He said softly.

"You warned me." The man answered, his voice hard and cold. "You told me they would come after her. But I didn't believe you. I thought they would come after me. The loose end." He then laughed, a cruel laugh. "But you know everything, don't you?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, and with that Quirrell laughed once more—the tears falling harder. His anger rising.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?!" He took a deep breath, tightening his hold on his mother.

"I had an idea." The old wizard answered solemnly. "And because of that idea, I warned you. I, too, thought they would come after you—not your mother, Quirinus."

"How did you even get here?"

"I have been following you for the past few days." Said Dumbledore. "Just incase..."

"This timeline bullshit..."Another ragged breath. "I didn't think...I didn't think it would go this far."

"It'll only get worse." Said Dumbledore. "However, right now, you need to leave. Whoever did this will be back. They won't leave until you are dead."

Quirrell laughed again. "This wasn't enough?"

"For Lord Voldemort, it may have been. But someone else is in charge now."

"You know who it is don't you, Albus? The boy is too young—so the heir to the throne falls to his _next_ guardian."

Dumbledore didn't answer. Of course, he knew who Quirrell was referring to, but he didn't want to believe it. It wasn't his behavior—this wasn't a call he would make. But no one had heard from the man since the breakout at Azkaban. He didn't know what to believe—and he knew he wouldn't be able to convince Quirrell otherwise. Not while he was holding his dead mother's body in his arms.

"There is a better way." Dumbledore stepped inside of the room, kneeling before Quirrell and his mother. Using two fingers, he shut the woman's eyes. His eyes then met with Quirrell's, and the man had a feeling what was to come next.

"We can stop this." He said. He then reached into his robes, pulling out his time-master. The other man looked down at it, and Dumbledore could tell he was contemplating his thoughts. "We can change all of this—we can make it better. You can make it better, Quirinus."

Quirrell looked at the time master—and in that moment, he realized it could be so simple. He could go back in time, prevent all this from ever happening. He wouldn't be here, kneeling in the wake of destruction. He wouldn't be holding his mother's dead body in his arms. He would be dead, but his mother—she could live in peace. Without fear. Right?

"Does she live?" He asked the old wizard. "In the original timeline, is my mother alive?"

"No." Dumbledore answered truthfully. Their eyes met once more, Dumbledore's glare shimmering with the truth.

"Do you know why?"

"No."

The other man nodded, sniffling. _It could all be so simple._ Nothing was simple. What was simple when in both worlds he and his mother are dead? Where he is responsible for both? _No._ This wasn't his fault. This was the fault of Voldemort's heir. The one man he trusted. The one man he trusted to do right.

"Make this right, Quirrell. Make your mother proud, as you've done before." He could hear Dumbledore pleading. He was pleading against his emotions—the same emotions that wanted to tear the world apart. To make them pay—all of them.

"I'm sorry, Professor," The other man said bluntly. "but Severus Snape killed my mother. And now I will return the favor."

* * *

Tobias sat on the railing on his bedroom balcony, his grandfather's letter gripped tightly in his hand. He watched the stars, trying to clear his head. Trying to wonder why all of this was happening to him. The truth about his father—the loss of his best friends—the sudden appearance of his mother—and now this. His grandfather was dead.

For the past two days, he hadn't left his room. It was the place he found out—he could feel it. Something snapped inside of him, as if something was wrong. It was confirmed when his mother stepped inside, telling him that his grandfather had passed from his sickness.

For the past two days, Tobias sat on the edge of his balcony, reading and re-reading Voldemort's letter to him. His grandfather wanted him to be strong, to step up, and take his throne. But how could he do that? When he had lost so much?

For the past two days, the Slytherin felt the weight of the world fall upon him. And in this moment, he felt weak. He wasn't ready—he wasn't ready to take on the mantle of the Dark Lord. He couldn't be his grandfather—no matter how much he wanted to be. Not without Draco. Not without his friends.

"Your mother said I might find you here."

Tobias didn't turn around. "I want to be alone."

"It has been two days, Tobias." The voice said again, the voice growing louder. "You grandfather wouldn't have wanted you to dwell on his fate."

The boy finally turned around, his green eyes meeting the pale blue ones of Bartemius Crouch Jr. He noticed that the man had changed clothes. He now wore heavy black robes—the same black robes his grandfather had described to him long ago. The robes of the Heir to the Dark Lord.

"What do you want, Crouch?" Tobias raised a brow. "And why are you wearing my robes?"

Crouch walked over to the balcony railing, resting upon it beside the Slytherin boy. "It was your grandfather's last wish." He looked at the boy, whose gaze was still focused on the stars above. "I spoke to him before he passed. He speaks highly of you, Tobias."

The boy ignored him. "What does that have to do with you wearing my robes?"

"Determined." Crouch laughed. "You're just like him. Your grandfather's last wish was for me to become your guardian. So that I may train you to take on your grandfather's mantle."

At these words, Tobias finally looked at Crouch since their conversation began. "I thought my guardian was Snape?" He asked suspiciously.

"Snape and Lord Voldemort agreed that I was the better choice. Snape is involved in so much—his role will be even bigger now that your grandfather is no longer with us."

The boy didn't respond—he knew what Crouch was trying to do. The man was trying to gain his trust. But could he trust him? His grandfather had never spoken of Crouch Jr. before—Tobias knew no stories of him. Snape had never mentioned him—yet he and his grandfather believed that his stranger would be the best choice as his current guardian? Something didn't feel right. Or maybe he was being paranoid.

"Trying to decide if you should trust me?" Crouch interrupted his thoughts. The man then laughed. "I don't blame you. I'm sure you've never heard of me before. But I fought alongside your father, Tobias. Rodolphus was a very close friend of mine."

Tobias sniffed. "Yet you're in love with his wife." The boy then shot him a look. "Thought I wouldn't notice you passing glances at my mother?"

"She's a beautiful woman. A remarkable witch." Crouch responded. "But I would never try to replace your father, Tobias. Nor would I try to replace your grandfather. I'm only here to train you—to prepare for the throne that will soon be yours."

Tobias said nothing—he only felt the weight on his shoulders grow heavier. Maybe he could trust Crouch, maybe the man was being sincere. Who else would prepare him to take on his grandfather's mantle? Who else would show him what it really meant to be Heir to the Dark Lord? _You are all we have left._

"If it makes you feel any better," Crouch said. "I never wanted the throne. Not like this, anyway. But I promised Lord Voldemort that I would train you. That I would help you unlock parts of your magic that you never thought could be accessed."

Tobias remained silent.

"I carry this burden so you won't have to. Until you are ready."

The boy sat there, pondering what to do. What would his grandfather do in this positon? But then again, what choice did he have? In four years, he would finally take his place as Heir to the Dark Lord, and without his grandfather—Crouch seemed to be the only one willing to guide him towards his destiny. In all honesty, Tobias was hoping for Snape to be the one to teach him everything. He trusted Snape—for the past two years it had been Snape that had saved him from death. He didn't know Crouch, but his father did. And if his father once had faith in Crouch, then Tobias supposed he could do the same.

"I don't trust you, Crouch." The boy said suddenly. "But my father did. And so does my grandfather, and because of that—I accept your guidance." Tobias then took his grandfather's letter in both hands, re-reading it once more. "You promise to make me in his image?"

The man nodded. "You have my word.

* * *

Ron woke up on Christmas morning only to find himself alone in the Gryffindor dormitory. He laid there, the urge to run downstairs and rumble through the presents was far from his mind. He stared at the castle ceiling, remembering the last Christmases he had spent at Hogwarts. His first one he had spent with Theodore, where they had used Tobias's invisibility cloak to sneak into the restricted section of the library. It was the second time that had been chased by Filch's cat, where they discovered the Mirror of Erised.

His second Christmas he had spent with Hermione and Neville, trying to find out who the real Heir of Slytherin was. He chuckled to himself as he remembered Hermione polyjuicing herself as a cat, and he and Neville running into the other Crabbe and Goyle, who turned out to be Tobias and Theodore.

"This Christmas blows." He said under his breath, finally finding the urge to get out of bed. He slipped on his maroon red house slippers, making his way downstairs to where his present would await him. A part of him hoped that his friends would be down there, exchanging presents—waiting for Ron to come down. But the Gryffindor common room was empty, nothing but a few presents surrounding the Christmas tree.

Ron sat down, opening the only gift he had received—another sweater from his mother. The red-haired boy slipped the sweater on. He stood up, heading towards the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower. He couldn't coup himself up in the tower all day—it would depress him. With Scabbers in his trouser pocket, Ron Weasley began to explore the Hogwarts Castle. But it only made him feel even worse.

Everywhere he walked, he was reminded of memories he once shared with his friends. The hospital wing. The courtyard. The library. There was literally no escape from the loneliness Ron was feeling. How could he erase two years of friendship? How was he going to find new friends? He didn't know where to start. They had all come together—as if it was fate. And now everything was in ruins. Everything he ever had was gone.

The Gryffindor ended his journey through the castle at the Astronomy Tower, where he spent his Christmas. He watched the other students, mostly Slytherins, conjure snowball fights on the grounds. He watched the younger years make snowmen and snowwomen—laughing and joking with each other. Enjoying the luxury of friendship—the perks of being important to someone. The boy sighed. He had always been overshadowed at home. If it wasn't by Bill and Charlie, it was Percy, and if it wasn't Percy, then it was Fred and George, who took all his parents' attention with their antics. And if it wasn't Fred and George, it was Ginny, the baby of the family and the only girl. To Ron, he felt like he was a gray area in the family—nothing too important, but not completely irrelevant either.

But Tobias and the rest didn't treat him that way. They looked to him for ideas, valued his opinion—even when he was wrong. He was never overshadowed in the group. They were always there for him, even Malfoy. And now that they've split—the red-haired Weasley wasn't sure if he would ever feel that important again.

He missed dinner—partly because he didn't want to be seen eating alone on Christmas. Another reason was he didn't have the appetite for it. Ron wasn't big on change—he hated it. And this was the biggest change of all. And it made him sick.

"I've been looking for you everywhere." He heard someone say. He turned around to find Tracey Davis, the brown-skinned Slytherin girl that was friends with Pansy Parkinson, standing on the landing. Ron noticed she was holding a long brown parcel in her hand.

"Huh?" He said, completely confused. "You've been looking…for me?"

Tracey rolled her eyes. "That's what I just said. Daphne told me all your friends had gone home." She then lifted the parcel up for Ron to see. "I had to give this to somebody. So don't flatter yourself."

"They aren't my friends." Ron retorted, fighting the pang in his chest as the words came out. "And what is that?"

"Dunno." The girl answered. "But it's addressed to Tobias. Doesn't say from who, though. Crabbe and Goyle were messing with it when I woke up. I took it from them—and I've been searching for you all morning to give it to you."

The Gryffindor frowned. "Why?"

"They warned me you were a bit thick." Tracey sighed. "I brought it to you, because, until now, I thought you were Tobias's friend. And if you were, you would hold it for him until he got back to school."

"Well you thought wrong. Tobias isn't my friend. As matter of fact, I don't have any friends."

"So Tobias is your enemy now?"

Ron spluttered. " _N-Noooo_. He just isn't my friend."

"Well, if he isn't your friend anymore, he's your enemy." Tracey said matter-of-factly. "And since you two are enemies now, I guess I'll have to keep this safe until Tobias comes back."

The Slytherin girl turned away, and for a moment, Ron wanted to let her leave. Who was she? Searching around the castle for him to deliver _Tobias's Christmas present_? Expecting him to keep it safe because she thought they were _friends?_ Did she not know what Tobias had done to him? He unleashed in magic, knocking him and Neville unconscious when they were just trying to help. Ron was lucky he didn't have to be admitted to the hospital wing.

But a part of him wanted Tracey to stay. Though he didn't know her that well, she was the only person he had talked to all Christmas break. Ginny wouldn't come out of the girl dormitories. Fred and George were who knows where doing who knows what. And Percy had gone home for the holidays. He had been alone for the past few days and talking to the Slytherin girl had been a relief. And because of that, he didn't want her to go so soon.

"Wait!" Ron called out, making the girl stop on the steps.

"Changed your mind, Weasley?"

Ron went red, he hadn't expected her to stop, or even respond. "I…uhhh…I—"

His mind went blank when Tracey returned to her previous spot on the landing. He didn't know what to say.

"You want to see what's inside?" She said, her eyebrow quirked. "Don't you?"

"I…uhhhh…I mean…I don't think Tobias would-"

"—doesn't matter what Tobias thinks. You guys aren't friends remember?"

Ron gulped. "Uhhh right, so—"

"—sooooo" Tracey continued. "Open it. To be honest, I'm kind of curious myself. The heirs get all the good stuff."

She stuck out the parcel to him, and Ron reluctantly took it. He didn't feel comfortable opening Tobias's gift. That was something Theodore would do—or even Draco. But not Ron. Yet curiosity killed the cat. He held the parcel in his arms, his eyes glued to its shape. What was it?

"Any day now, Weasley." Teased Tracey. "Another minute, and it might be Christmas again."

Taking a deep breath, Ron ripped the parcel opened, and they both gasped at the sight of the present.

"Hail Salazar." Tracey breathed out.

Ron nodded. "It's beautiful."

Now in his hands laid a gleaming black broomstick. It was the same broomstick Ron had seen in his dreams—the same broomstick he spent hours in Diagon Alley just staring at, wishing that one day he could afford one just like it—or even better.

It was a Firebolt, the fastest broomstick in the world. Ron's eyes travelled up and down it, examining every part of its make. He ran his fingers over the golden registration number engraved in the handle. He watched as Tracey ran her fingers though the dark-brown twigs that made up the tail. He noticed that she was mesmerized by the broom as well—which intrigued him. He had never met a girl that enjoyed Quidditch. Ginny was always too shy to play and Hermione only knew what she read in books. But he knew Tracey was different. It was the way she looked at the broom—as if she had dreamt about it just like Ron had. As if it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

"The Firebolt." She said, running her hands along the broom. "I heard the Bulgarians just got a full shipment of these. Krum's going to freak."

Ron's eyes grew wider. "You're a fan of Krum?"

"Who isn't?" The girl snorted. "Seventeen years old and the best seeker in the world? Bulgaria hasn't lost a game since he started."

"Where have you been all my life?" The words came out before Ron could fathom what he said. He immediately felt his face turn red when Tracey looked up at him.

"What?"

"Uhhh…I said…." He panicked. "…I mean…I don't know many girls who are Quidditch fans."

The girl smiled, and Ron felt his palms grow sweaty under the broomstick. "Well, I guess today's your lucky day, Weasley."

She then removed the broomstick from the parcel. Ron could see it vibrating in her hand as she let it go, allowing it to float in midair. The Gryffindor watched in amazement as it floated at the right height for someone to mount it. It was perfect.

"It's perfect." He heard Tracey say. Ron nodded in agreement, but suddenly snapped back to reality when he saw the Slytherin girl mounting the Firebolt.

"Wait." He said quickly. "What are you doing?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be a baby, Weasley. Did you honestly think we were just going to open it and put it back where we found it? Where's the fun in that?"

"But what if? What if something happens?"

"Like having the time of your life on the fastest broomstick in the world?" Tracey teased. "Merlin forbid that happens."

Ron's face turned red. "Oi! You know what I mean."

"Nothing's going to happen to LeStrange's broom." She then cocked an eyebrow at you. "I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and daring?"

" _We are!"_ Ron yelled back.

"Then hop on, Weasley." Tracey then extended her hand out to him. "Or is your grudge against Slytherins as thick as they say?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it. He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted to ride on the Firebolt. And he still couldn't deny the fact that it was refreshing talking to Tracey, even if she was a Slytherin. They had something in common and the Gryffindor saw this as an opportunity to make a new friend—even if it meant stealing his ex-friend's Christmas present.

He swallowed his pride and took Tracey's hand, lifting himself up against the broom. His heart pumped with adrenaline as he felt the broom vibrate beneath him. This was happening, this was actually happening.

"You might want to hold on to me." Said Tracey.

Ron scoffed. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

The girl shrugged. "If you say so."

But as soon as the broom left the Astronomy tower, Ron quickly regretted his decision. The Firebolt flew so fast, Ron thought his clothes would rip off his body. He unconsciously held on to Tracey, trying to focus his eyes on the scenery around him. It was like someone had hit the fast-forward button on the world. They flew so fast, that the children Ron was watching earlier had become nothing but blurs.

"WHOOOOOO-HOOOOOO!" He heard Tracey scream. Ron laughed against her. As the shock went away, the actual enjoyment of the ride started to kick in. He felt all his worries fly away, one by one. He stopped worrying about his old friends. He stopped worry about his loneliness. He closed his eyes, savoring this moment. This moment—being hundreds of feet in the air, hanging on to a Slytherin—riding on the fastest broomstick in the world.

 _Christmas blows? Yeah, right._

* * *

"I warned you, Aubrey." The old woman went on. "I warned you that those LeStranges were no good. And now look…"

Neville barely wanted to eat as his grandmother went on and on about Tobias LeStrange. It was no secret that his grandmother didn't like his friendship with the Slytherin heir in the first place, but the boy always hoped that he could prove her wrong. Unfortunately, due to recent events, he was the one that was proved wrong.

He shuffled his peas around on his plate as he tried to tune out his grandmother's voice, but he had no luck. For the next ten minutes or so, he would have to listen to her rave about the LeStranges and the rest of the Sacred 28 families. He honestly wished he hadn't come home for the holidays, but after what happened—he couldn't be at Hogwarts right now.

"That's how all Slytherins are," His grandmother said. "They are good friends at first—or they act like they're your friend—and then they turn on you. Like a rabid dog." She clucked her tongue. "I wonder what your mother and father would say about this."

Neville hated this part of the lecture. When he was younger, all his grandmother ever talked about were his parents. How great they were. How great wizards they had become and how they had fought valiantly in the wizarding war. Even as they met their fate, they never gave up. For so long, Neville had looked up to them, promising to uphold their legacy. But he'd always seemed to come up short.

He was clumsy, always tripping or falling over something. His magic wasn't the best—the simplest spells he had trouble with. He wasn't the best dueler—the word "battle" made him nervous. He was nothing like his parents, and his grandmother had no problem reminding him of that. He knew she had good intentions, to inspire him to do better, to be better—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. He couldn't uphold his parents legacy, and he was starting to accept that he never would.

"After all they've done. After everything they've fought for. You go up to that school and become friends with a LeStrange. Frank would have a fit. Yes, he would. I know my son. And your mother…" The old woman shook her head.

"I think they would be proud of me." Neville said feebly. "It takes a lot of courage to be friends with a Slytherin."

His grandmother stopped her pacing, her eyes narrowing on her grandson. "You got that right." She then sighed. "But a LeStrange, Neville? Malfoy and Nott I can tolerate—but LeStrange? His kind aren't stable—especially his mother…especially what she did…"

Neville set down his fork. "What did she do?"

For the first time, Neville saw tears forming in his grandmother's eyes. It scared him—he had never seen her so vulnerable. He always saw her as a strong, formidable woman—ready for any challenge that might come her way. He now wished he hadn't asked. Being lectured seemed much easier to endure compared to this.

"I was hoping I could keep this a secret a little longer." She said softly. "But it seems my time has run out." She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself from bursting into tears. "During the Wizarding War, there was a secret Anti-Voldemort organization was created to fight against Lord Voldemort and his followers. Your mother and father were very prominent members of this group."

"What does that have to do with Tobias's mother?"

"One Halloween night, when you were just a year old, four of Lord Voldemort's followers came after your parents. Their mission was to kill your parents, but fortunately, the Aurors showed up in enough time to arrest them. But while they were there, they tortured your mother and father to the point of insanity."

Neville sat there in silence, listening to his grandmother's story. He had never heard this part of the story. His only knowledge about his parent's condition was that the effects from the war had driven them insane, causing Neville to live with his grandmother. He never knew that his parents were targets. And not only were they targets, they were enemies of Tobias's grandfather. And it was Tobias's grandfather who ordered his followers to murder his parents.

"I didn't find out the names of the culprits until the next day in the papers." His grandmother said. "I remember them clearly as if I read them yesterday." She then looked at Neville, and the boy had a strong feeling in his gut about what she was about to say next. But he hoped that he was wrong.

"The people who tortured your parents—Bellatrix LeStrange, her husband Rodolphus LeStrange, his brother Rabastan LeStrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr." She didn't go on.

The boy sat there—speechless. What could he say? Would his parents be proud of him now? Now that he knew the truth? That his best friend—his family—was the reason he was living with his grandmother right now. He didn't want to believe it—he didn't want to believe that he had been friends with the boy whose parents tortured his mother and father to the point of insanity. It made him sick to his stomach—it made him angry.

"He—he never told me." Was all Neville could say. He couldn't believe that after all this time, Tobias never told him the truth. He had the audacity to be upset about Draco not telling him the truth about his father, when he had secrets of his own.

His grandmother shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. "I wouldn't expect him to. He's a Slytherin. They keep secrets. All of them."

All hopes of renewing their friendship ended here. For the first time, Neville felt angry. Angry at himself—for not being who his parents needed him to be. Angry at his grandmother—for not telling him the truth sooner. And angry at Tobias—who didn't tell him the truth at all, when they were supposed to be friends.

Neville stood up from the table, his room becoming his next destination. His grandmother didn't stop him. Perhaps she saw how angry he felt—maybe she was finally proud that Neville was standing up for something. Whatever it was, Neville didn't care. But he did care about one thing. His parents' legacy. And he was going to uphold it.

He was going to avenge his mother and father.

 **Author's Note: Lots of twists and turns! Many questions I know, answers to come soon! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	54. POA16: Unspeakable Things

Don't tell a lie on me

I won't tell the truth 'bout you

~ The Heart Part 4 x Kendrick Lamar

Chapter 54: Unspeakable Things

 _The disputes and mumbles stopped as Nott conjured the map of Azkaban. They were now astonished by the details that were visible—they could see the exact cells where their old comrades and war buddies were locked up. The men at the table knew they were looking at something more than blueprints and floorplans. This map has everything—you could see exactly who was walking around the prison—there were secret tunnels, emergency exits, floo network checkpoints, etc._

 _"A gift from our friends at the Ministry," said Lucius. He then nodded to Nott, who seemed ready to move on with tonight's presentation._

 _Terrell nodded in return, clearing his throat. "What you all are looking at is a complete map of Azkaban Prison. Similar to the one the Marauders made during their time at Hogwarts. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement studied Pettigrew's notes on the map and created one of each heavily guarded structure in the wizarding world. Lucius was able to acquire this one."_

 _"And this is supposed to help us not get caught?" asked Yaxley. "And what about Crouch? Does he have a copy of this map?"_

 _"Yes. But he won't need them for long." Nott answered. "He will only need them to get to Bellatrix's cell. After that, the prison will fall."_

 _Crabbe frowned. "Fall?"_

 _Nott ignored the question, using his wand to point to the male high-security cells in the basement of the prison. He pointed to the last cell at the end of the prison's blueprints. The details of the cell read "Bartemius Crouch Jr."_

 _"Crouch's cell is here." He then pointed to the women high-security cells at the top of the structure. "Bellatrix's cell is here. Due to Lucius's deal, Crouch Sr. will request to visit his son alone. Once Crouch Jr. and his mother switch places, the prison break will start. And Crouch will murder his father…and everyone else in Azkaban."_

 _"Murder?" Goyle looked horrified. "B-but…why? Those are our brothers." He then looked towards Voldemort. "They stood beside you. Fought for you. And you kill them?"_

 _The Dark Lord was silent. His health seemed to be depleting at a faster rate than before. Why didn't he tell him? He could have whipped up a potion for him. Or was it the great wizard's plan to die?_

 _"Sacrifices must be made for the greater good, Marcus." He said, his voice hoarse and weak. "You of all people should know this."_

 _Goyle was silent, allowing Nott to continue with explaining the Azkaban breakout. He turned back to the blueprint of the prison. He pointed to a secret tunnel hidden in the steps of the basement sector._

 _"Crouch will then use this tunnel to make his way up to the top floor. A few of the older guards know about the tunnel, and if the situation presents itself, they may be waiting for Crouch on the other side. Crouch, however, is aware of this. Once making his way to the top floor, he will silence the rest of the prisoners, freeing Bellatrix."_

 _Yaxley frowned at this part of the plan. "Is there any reason why we are letting LeStrange out of Azkaban? She's reckless—you all remember how she was in the war. She could ruin everything—or kill Crouch herself."_

 _Lucius smirked. "We've already handled Bellatrix. She will comply."_

 _"We need her for the boy." Terrell answered nonchalantly. "We have to ensure his allegiance to the Dark Lord, given his true heritage. Once we begin, Dumbledore and the Order may try to reveal the truth to Tobias."_

 _"And what if Bellatrix fails?" Crabbe asked, his beady eyes locked on Nott's. "She isn't the motherly type. She may neglect the boy—or worse."_

 _Lord Voldemort spoke again. "I will handle Bellatrix. The boy will fulfill his destiny, but we must prepare his kingdom."_

 _Terrell nodded. "Once Bellatrix is free, she and Crouch will have at least fifteen minutes before the dementors return from Hogwarts. In that fifteen minutes, they will destroy the prison, sealing the fate of every prisoner and guard in Azkaban. No one will survive."_

Snape opened his eyes, once again knocked out of Goyle's thoughts. He took a moment to collect his thoughts—putting the pieces together from his last intrusion. So the massacre was planned? It wasn't a consequence of breaking two of the most dangerous wizards out of prison. They all planned for this—Nott, Zabini, Malfoy, and Lord Voldemort.

They planned the murders of their comrades—men and women who had put their lives on the line for Voldemort. Men and women who chose life in Azkaban over freedom, all in the name of the Dark Lord. Men and Women who were now dead to three men who played Judge and Jury and one man who felt like he was God himself. And he sacrificed them. For what? The greater good?

"What did the Dark Lord mean when he said he'll _handle_ Bellatrix?" He asked Goyle, who still had his back turned. "What did he do to her?"

"Nothing." Goyle replied. Snape was shocked that he got a response out of the man. The last time he asked questions, Goyle said nothing.

"They're all dead, Goyle." Snape continued. "Your friends—my friends. Those we considered family. Each one gave their life for Voldemort—and Voldemort killed them."

Goyle stiffened. "And Crouch killed Voldemort, so now everybody wins."

"Do we? If so, why am I locked in a dungeon?"

The man on the other side of the bars went silent once more at the question. Snape then decided to choose another topic to press on about.

"I know you can feel me inside of your mind, Marcus." He said. "And I know you've been cutting the connection off at certain points. Why? Why won't you let me see more?"

"It isn't safe for you to know everything right now."

"Why not?"

Goyle then turned to face Snape. The man looked tired—but the look of tiredness could not mask the fear hidden in his eyes. It was the same fear Snape had seen in his eyes during the flashbacks. The horrified looks of something unbelievable.

"Marcus…. what did he do to you?"

"He's listening, Severus." Goyle whispered desperately. His eyes widened, as if someone was approaching Snape from behind. "He's listening."

The black-haired wizard quickly turned his head, checking to make sure someone or something wasn't sneaking up behind him. But his cell was empty, except for him. What was Goyle playing at?

"Goyle, what are you— "

But when Snape turned back around Goyle had returned to his spot, his back turned to his prisoner.

"Marcus? GOYLE!" screamed Snape, but Goyle did not answer. The wizard closed his eyes, trying to enter the man's mind once more—but something was blocking him. He knew it wasn't Goyle, but from the strength of the defenses around Goyle's mind, Snape knew that he wouldn't be gathering more information anytime soon.

He slouched back against the cell wall. "Dammit."

* * *

Draco could barely walk as he made his way down the street. His mind was rattling with possible scenarios and romantic clichés he wanted to say. His palms were sweaty and he could hardly breathe. He was always like this when it came to her—especially when she was upset because of him.

He held the shimmery red gift box in his arms, making sure that no damage came to the item. Out of all the things that had happened today, this was the one event he had been looking forward to. But now that the blonde Slytherin was seconds away from his destination—he began to reconsider his decision. But he knew he couldn't back out now. He had to make this right.

Christmas morning had been a dreary one. He first had to attend Tobias's grandfather's funeral. Everyone—Death Eaters and pureblood elitist alike—attended. The ceremony was long and solemn. Draco sat by his mother and father, but couldn't help wishing he was sitting beside Tobias and Theodore. Tobias sat between Theo and his mother, who was sitting by Bartemius Crouch Jr. Through the service, the blonde Slytherin couldn't help but think of countless ways to bring his friends back together. Ever since his heart to heart with his mother, Draco felt responsible for the way things fell apart before the holidays. And because it was his fault, he felt entitled to fix them. And the first part of his "get back together" plan was getting his girl back.

He spent the last few hours in Hogsmeade—trying to find the perfect gift for Hermione. He skipped the bookshop, seeing as the bushy-haired witch had all the books ever written in there. With the small sack of galleons clinking in his coat pocket, Draco was determined to find a Christmas gift for her. No matter how long it took, or how much it cost him—Draco Malfoy wanted to make this right. More than anything in the world.

He finally settled on a small silver bracelet. It was simple, yet it was beautiful. The bracelet was covered in blue sapphires—the September birthstone. As he looked at it through the glass in the jewelry shop, he felt a wave of confidence wash over him. He felt his thoughts clear and he could finally express the feelings he had for the Gryffindor witch. In his heart, he felt as if everything was going to be alright. And once he got Hermione back, he knew he would be able to convince the rest of his friends, too.

He then floo'd to the nearest floo station, which was surprisingly two streets down from Hermione's house. Draco remembered exactly where she stayed from their visit last summer. But even as he tried to summon that feeling of courage he had back at the jewelry shop, it wouldn't come. Instead, a pool of doubts began to flood his mind. What if Hermione didn't want to see him? What if she didn't accept his gift? What if she hated him and never wanted to speak to him again? What if he was too late?

"Draco." He heard a voice say. Draco didn't even realize he had ringed the doorbell. He was now face to face with Monica Granger, Hermione's mother.

The boy cleared his throat. "Merry Christmas, Missus Granger." He said politely. "Is Hermione home?"

Mrs. Granger smiled at him. "Merry Christmas, Draco. Well, don't you look dapper? Come inside—Hermione just got back from ice skating with her father."

"Ice skating?"

"A muggle pastime darling, I'm surprised Hermione hasn't told you about it."

Even over something as little as a muggle hobby, Draco felt a pang in his chest that Hermione didn't tell him about ice skating. There was a time where they talked about everything—when they were friends. The blonde Slytherin took a deep breath, shrugging off the notion. He was going to fix everything tonight. Everything was going to return to the way it was.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger called from the steps. "You have a visitor."

"Coming, mum!" Hermione called back, and Draco knew he felt his heart skip a beat at her voice. It's been a while since he'd heard it.

Draco braced himself for what was to come next. He rushed over to the small mirror over the fireplace, making sure his hair was still in place. He pulled out Hermione's gift, dusting off any invisible dust that wasn't there earlier. He could hear his heart beating through his chest as he heard her footsteps coming down the stairs. _This is it, Malfoy. This is it._

Hermione walked down the stairs, her mind far from who could be visiting her. She assumed it was Tobias—he had written her a letter a few days ago about his grandfather's passing. He also mentioned that he and Theodore would be stopping by sometime soon to deliver her Christmas gift. She couldn't deny that she was looking forward to her friends' visit—she hadn't seen Tobias since the train ride back home, and she hadn't spoken to Theodore since the argument. She had so much to catch them up on, minus the stuff about Blaise.

But as she reached the bottom of the stairs, something in her gut told her that it wasn't Tobias and Theodore waiting for her in the living room. Maybe it was the creepy smile on her mother's face. Or maybe it was the fact that it was awfully silent downstairs for Theodore to be in her house. And as Hermione turned the corner, she found out exactly who had come to visit her—and it felt like a rock had just landed in the pit of her stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione." Said Draco, a nervous smile on his face. In his hands was a shiny red gift box, topped with a golden bow. _What was he doing here?_

"I'll leave you two alone." Her mother said, and she made her way up the stairs, leaving the two third-years alone.

Hermione didn't move from her spot. "What are you doing here, Draco?"

"To see you, of course." The blonde Slytherin responded, smirking. "And to bring you your Christmas present."

"I don't want it." The Gryffindor then turned to walk away.

"Granger, wait!"

She hated herself for stopping, and she couldn't repress the groan she released when she did. She turned back around, seeing that Draco had moved a few steps towards her. She had to admit, he did look nice in his black suit. He had combed his hair, put on a nice suit, and bought a Christmas gift—just for her. A part of her wanted to blush at the gesture, but the other side prevailed. That didn't erase what he had done to her—what he had said. But still…

"I—I—" Draco went red. "I came to apologize."

"Really?" The girl crossed her arms. "I thought you believed you were doing the right thing."

"I did—at first. But now I realize that I was wrong. I shouldn't have kept the truth a secret from Tobias and I shouldn't have brought you into it. And I know saying 'sorry' isn't enough, so I bought you this." He then held out the gift, which Hermione was reluctant to take at first. But her curiosity got the better of her and she took it.

Draco watched her open the box, his heartbeat slowing down. If Hermione was accepting the gift, then maybe he had a chance. He just had to play his cards right and then they would be friends again.

"Oh…Draco…" Hermione gasped. She stared at the beautiful silver bracelet. Then the sapphires—her birthstone. It was simple—she was never the one for extravagant jewelry. In that moment, she had forgotten about her and Draco's argument. She had forgotten why she was mad at him.

She could hear Draco stepping closer until he was right in front of her, his shadow covering the bracelet.

"Do you like it?" She heard him ask.

"It's beautiful."

The blonde Slytherin smiled. "I knew you would like it. Does this make us friends again?"

 _Friends?_ The word brought the Gryffindor witch back to reality. She blinked—realizing what Draco was trying to do—or what he wasn't realizing. He was trying to buy her friendship back. Yes, he apologized, but the blonde- Slytherin was going to need more than a bracelet to gain her friendship back. Disappointed, she closed the box. She could feel the Slytherin's smile turning into a frown. She knew this wasn't what he was expecting—but she wouldn't settle for anything less. If Draco wanted to make things right, he would have to try harder. Hermione Granger couldn't be bought.

"I'm sorry, Draco." She said softly, trying to hold back the tears that were threating to form. Draco's friendship was something Hermione couldn't describe. They had been through so much together—it was like they had this unspoken bond between them. And that was why she couldn't accept his gift. She needed to know that Draco had changed.

She gave him back the box, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

"Hermione, please…" said Draco, his voice cracking. His heart immediately broke when Hermione closed the box. He thought he was doing everything right. He was sure that Hermione would accept his apology and that they could renew their friendship. He was sure of it.

He could tell that Hermione was hurt as well, but what for? She wasn't the one who just had her gift rejected. Was she still mad about what happened?

"Hermione…" He tried again.

"I can't take your gift, Draco. You really hurt my feelings, and a bracelet isn't going to fix that."

Hermione said nothing else as she turned around once more, making her way back up the steps to her bedroom. She couldn't stop the tears that were now flowing down her cheeks. And even then, Draco did not stop her from returning to her room. He only stood there, holding her Christmas gift in his hand. When was he going to realize?

Draco stood there, trying to hold back his tears. He wasn't going to cry—he couldn't. He grabbed his coat and walked out the front door, not even bothering to say goodbye to Mrs. Granger. He made his way back up the street, the gift box still in his hand.

By the time he reached the floo station, the tears were falling down his cheeks. He had the urge to chuck the gift box in the nearest garbage bin but decided against it. He returned the box to his coat pocket. Taking a deep breath, he decided that he wouldn't give up. These were his friends. If he truly wanted them back, he would have to work harder.

He then stood in the floo station, grabbing a handful of floo powder. As he said the name of his destination, he made a vow that he would be back. Draco was then swallowed in a band of green flames, leaving the alley as empty as it was when he arrived.

* * *

Pansy spent her Christmas with Tobias, who wasn't really digging the whole Christmas spirit thing due to his grandfather's funeral that morning. The two spent the whole day in his bedroom, talking about whatever came to their minds. It felt like old times—and Pansy was glad that he was talking and laughing again. She knew how much his grandfather meant to him—nobody expected Tobias to be talking at all.

Tobias was grateful to have someone to take his mind off today's event. Everyone he ran into after the funeral wanted to talk about his grandfather. How great Voldemort was. How good of a leader the Dark Lord was. How lucky Tobias was to have a mentor such as Lord Voldemort. All it did was make Tobias feel worse about his upcoming position. There were hundreds of people at his grandfather's funeral—hundreds of people that his grandfather had inspired and trained. It made Tobias wonder if he would be able to recreate those numbers. Would he be able to inspire that many people with his cause in the future? Would he be able to train those men and women to be something greater than themselves?

Pansy helped him take his mind off those things. They laid on his bedroom floor, shoulder to shoulder, staring at his bedroom ceiling. They had been talking for hours—creating conversations and debates about the first thing that came to their minds. Quidditch (which didn't last very long), school, spells, magical creatures, Hagrid, the list went on.

"Okay, next one." Pansy said. "Would you rather…insult a hippogriff or go head to head with Hagrid's three-headed dog?"

Tobias laughed. "Go head to head with Fluffy."

"Really? I would've taken the hippogriff—at least it doesn't have three heads."

"But at least my arm wouldn't be broken or worse. I know how to defeat him."

Pansy raised a brow at him. "How?"

"Music." Tobias said coolly. "Just play some music, and he goes straight to sleep."

"That has to be the worst weakness ever." The girl laughed. "Music?"

"Well, you have to remember. It is Hagrid."

They both laughed at that, and then it grew quiet. Tobias sighed, still staring at the ceiling. Pansy wished to know what was going on inside his head. She looked over at him, and after a few moments, she realized she was biting her lip. She quickly stopped, cursing the habit that she picked up from Granger. But that didn't stop her from asking the question she'd been wanting to ask for the past hour.

"Look, LeStrange." She said quickly, "I know I said I wasn't going to ask, but—"

Tobias stopped her. "I'm fine, Pansy."

"Are you?"

Tobias took a deep breath, rethinking his answer. "No." He sighed. "It's just—my grandfather did so much. You saw how many people came to his funeral—all those people worshiped him. How am I supposed to live up to that?"

"Well, the first thing that you have to remember," She answered. "is that you won't have to do it alone. You'll have me and Theo. But mostly me, since I'm your bride-to-be and all."

"I guess you're right. But what if I'm not as good as a leader as him? What if I don't live up to his legacy? A few days ago, he told me I wasn't ready. I know I have much training to go through, but what if I'm never ready?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You know you doubt yourself too much, right? You're Lord Voldemort's grandkid. You know more spells than half those kids at school—you've beaten a three-headed dog, the professor that betrayed your grandfather, a giant clan of spiders, a giant snake, _your grandfather._ You've done more things in two years than most wizards do in a lifetime." Her voice then grew softer. "Of course you'll be ready. You just have to stop worry about living up to your grandfather's legacy and make your own."

Tobias turned to look at her, processing all his previous adventures. "I never really thought about it like that."

"And that's why you need me." The Slytherin girl smirked.

Tobias didn't say anything else. Despite how awkward it felt, he couldn't keep his eyes off Pansy. She was always there for him when he needed someone. She was always that voice of reason when nothing else made sense. Tobias always saw her as more than a friend, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was betrothed to the Slytherin princess. They always had this unspoken bond between them—something that he never could establish with Ginny.

And this reasoning drove him to his next action. He kissed her.

It caught Pansy by surprise, but she wasn't going to protest it. She had been waiting two years for this moment. _Take that She-Weasel._ It wasn't one of those long, passionate kisses she'd seen her parents share a few times, but it was still a kiss. A kiss with her crush—her crush who had kissed her _first._

Tobias wasn't really sure how long he was supposed to kiss Pansy. He honestly didn't know anything about kissing girls or courting them. His grandfather never taught him—probably because Tobias didn't need it. He was already betrothed; he wouldn't need charm. But for Pansy, he felt like he should—or maybe he had it already. He didn't feel nervous around Pansy the way he did around Ginny. He felt like himself—yet ten times better.

Their kiss ended a few seconds later. Tobias was the first to speak, catching the frown on the girl's face.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. "I didn't mean—"

Pansy responded with the same awkward quickness. "No, no. It's fine." But it wasn't fine. She didn't want it to end so soon.

Tobias cleared his throat and faced the ceiling once more. Seeing that they weren't going to talk about what happened, Pansy did the same. Her emotions were now tied in a knot and she wasn't sure what to say next. Did this make LeStrange her _boyfriend?_ Did that make her his _girlfriend?_ Or was this one of those "kiss and get over it" things she heard the older girls talk about one time? She sighed—dealing with Tobias LeStrange, there was no telling.

"Okay, next one." She said, trying to change to mood. "Eating a whole box of Every-Flavored Beans, _all of them_ —or eating frog brains?"

Tobias laughed. "Gross. Uhhhh…. frog brains?"

"You're disgusting."

* * *

It was dark when Tracey and Ron finished their ride on Tobias's new Firebolt. Tracey landed the broomstick back on the landing of the Astronomy Tower, trying to hold in her laughter as Ron fell off the broom. Ron couldn't help but laugh at himself—surprised that he wasn't upset that he had embarrassed himself in front of Tracey.

But he was surprised when the Slytherin girl reached out her hand to him, motioning to help him up. Ron hesitated, but took her hand, allowing her to help him off the ground. They quickly dropped their hands—now that their joyride was over, Ron and Tracey weren't sure if they were now friends or not. Tracey had heard about Ron's "grudge" against Slytherins, though he was friends with the top three Slytherin heirs. She wasn't sure what LeStrange, Malfoy, and Nott did to gain Weasley's friendship, but she was positive that she wouldn't be able to do the same.

Ron wasn't sure if he could trust Tracey. Well, it wasn't a trust thing—it was more of a house thing. He thought about all the arguments Draco and Hermione got into—he wasn't sure if he wanted the same thing to happen with him and Tracey. But he had to admit, Tracey was different. She wasn't as annoying as Daphne and Astoria Greengrass and she wasn't as terrifying as Pansy Parkinson could be. She was normal—she liked Quidditch.

"So," Tracey's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "What do we do now?"

Ron scratched the back of his neck. "Well, we still have a whole week until Tobias gets back."

"Right," Tracey said, shuffling her feet. "Meaning we still have a whole week with his Firebolt."

"We could meet back here tomorrow." The boy said quickly, his ears burning a light red. "I could bring my Quidditch books."

"That'd be great. And I could…. bring the broom." Tracey laughed nervously, seeing as that would be obvious.

Ron laughed as well, his ears turning a furious red. "Great. See you then."

"Catch ya around, Weaselbee."

Tracey then turned around, long brown hair swishing behind her. Ron watched as she walked away, a wave of feelings rushing through him. On the top of the list, he felt proud of himself. This whole morning, he had been worrying about finding new friends, and then, like magic, Tracey appeared. Tracey—who wasn't like the rest of the Slytherin girls. Who didn't try to be a know-it-all like Hermione. Or as bossy. If anything, it was looking like the beginning of a beautiful friendship. And his grudge be damned, Ron was looking forward to spending the rest of the Christmas holiday with a Slytherin.

* * *

Remus flicked the light switch of his apartment to find Sirius stretched out on his living room couch. Though his first instinct would have been to scowl at his best friend, he didn't have the energy for it. Instead, he walked over to where Sirius was laying and plopped down beside him, letting out a disgruntled sigh.

"What?" Sirius said in disbelief, his eyebrow cocked at the man. "No 'Sirius what are you doing here?' I'm hurt."

"I figured you'll tell me sooner or later." Remus said as he summoned a bottle of butterbeer from the fridge. "You were never the one to keep your mouth shut."

The ex-con laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment. But you're really not going to ask?"

"If I were to ask you anything, Sirius, I would ask you 'where have you been?'"

"I don't think I should tell you that." The other man said, summoning his own bottle of Firewhiskey. Sirius frowned when Remus caught his bottle before it reached him.

"If you want this bottle you will." Said Remus.

"Curse you, Moony." Sirius took a deep breath. "Fine. I was at LeStrange Manor."

Remus almost choked on his butterbeer. He turned to look at Sirius as if the man was mad. " _Sirius!_ Are you serious?" He then closed his eyes. "Don't answer that."

"As much as I want to burst into a fit of laughter Moony, I am serious." He then chuckled. "No, nevermind, I think I'm gonna do it." And with that he hollered in a fit of laughter, rolling on the floor. As he clutched his side, Remus couldn't help but laugh along with him. But once realizing the issue once more, he mustered enough strength to kick Sirius in his leg, causing the man to yelp in pain.

"Goddammit, Moony." Sirius growled. "What was that for?"

"What were you doing at LeStrange Manor? I thought we agreed you would stay away from Harry?"

The ex-con sat up, snatching his bottle of firewhiskey. "I wasn't there for Harry. I was looking for Peter. I heard about the breakout at Azkaban, so I went to the only place it was safe for them to go. The only place Dumbledore won't let the Order raid. And I was right."

Remus frowned. "Right about what?"

"The Death Eaters are planning something. I saw them—a few a first, then more of them started coming. All of them coming to LeStrange Manor. I was expecting to see Peter, but I had no luck."

"The Death Eaters are coming out of hiding. Why?" Remus then set his bottle of butterbeer down on the end table. "Is Voldemort planning something?"

Sirius shook his head. "It isn't him. Actually, Voldemort won't be planning anything for a while."

"How do you figure that?"

"'Cause he's dead."

There was a long pause, and Remus figured he may have mistaken his butterbeer for a bottle of firewhiskey. Lord Voldemort dead? That didn't sound right, it didn't feel right. And even then, it felt ironic because they'd been waiting so long for Lord Voldemort's demise. But now that he was hearing it, it only made him feel worse.

"I woke up this morning," Sirius went on. "I was about to leave, seeing as it had been three days and Peter was nowhere to be found. But then hundreds of Death Eaters and pureblood elitists started popping up on LeStrange's lawn. All of them dressed in black."

"Once I got a closer look, I realized it was a funeral. Didn't realize who it was until I spotted Bellatrix—she was crying her eyes out. You know she only does that for one person."

Remus nodded in understanding. "Voldemort."

"Yeap. I would feel sorry for her if I didn't hate her so damn much." Sirius said. He wiped a tired hand over his face. "You should've seen Harry, Moony. He looked devastated."

"I guess Voldemort meant a lot to him."

"And that's the funny thing," said the other man, taking a swig from his Firewhiskey bottle. "We _hate_ Voldemort. We think that idolizing someone like him is like—it's fucking crazy! But here is our _godson_ , Moony—he _worships_ this pile of shit of a man. He was _heartbroken_."

Remus said nothing, taking another swig of butterbeer. He understood what Sirius was saying—it was the same thoughts he had battled with for the past twelve years. He always believed that anyone who followed Voldemort was a fool—but what did that make Harry? A fool as well? Harry wasn't forced to believe those morals and values Voldemort taught him—he grew up accepting those values—they were a part of him. And did he love his godson any less for it? No, of course not.

"So I guess our boy is King of the Hill now, huh?" asked Sirius, bringing Remus out of his thoughts.

"Hm?"

Sirius positioned himself back on the couch, leaning his head back on the cushion. "You know, since Voldy's kicked the bucket, that puts Harry in charge, right?"

"Unfortunately no," Remus replied, thinking about the missing person's case the Order, and now the Ministry, was working on. "In the event that Voldemort passed and Harry was not of age, the position of Heir to the Throne would be passed to Harry's next guardian."

The other man closed his eyes. "Oh God no. Please don't tell me it's Bellatrix."

"No, it isn't." said Remus. "It's Snape."

"Snivellous? The Heir of the Dark Lord?" Sirius snorted. "Well, it's better than Bella."

The dusty-brown haired man shook his head. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. The Order hasn't heard from Snape since the breakout at Azkaban."

"You think he's gone rogue?"

"We don't know what to think." Remus sighed. "Did you see him at Voldemort's funeral?"

Sirius shook his head. "Nope."

"As much as I hate to say it, I'm worried about him. It isn't like Snape to go this many days without reporting to the Order."

"Maybe the whole 'Heir to the Throne' thing has gone to his head."

"Had that been the case," Remus took another swig. "He would've been at the funeral. He would have at least said a few words. Whether he hated the man or not."

"True. I think I would've preferred Snivellous's words of wisdom rather than Crouch Jr.'s" Sirius laughed. "Bloke spoke as if he was Heir to the Throne. Had you not told me about Snape, I would've believed that he was."

"And you didn't see Snape at all? Out of all the people at LeStrange Manor?"

Sirius sighed. "I wouldn't lie to you, Moony."

"I know."

* * *

 _"What is the point of this?!" Goyle argued once more. "What is the point of killing everyone in that prison?"_

 _"We believe that their confinement in Azkaban has weakened them." Answered Terrell Nott. "If released, they may not be able to adapt to the new orders we are putting in place."_

 _"And Crouch and Bellatrix will be?" Goyle scoffed._

 _Darian Zabini spoke for the first since the meeting began. "I know it hurts, my brother, but I implore you to see the bigger picture. The Dark Lord is dying and we need to rebuild his empire. Those trapped in Azkaban, their loyalty is to Voldemort, not to us."_

 _"Shouldn't they get to decide their loyalty?" The man scowled._

 _"No matter how you see it, Marcus." Lucius Malfoy retorted, his voice stern. "It's happening. You're either with us or against us."_

 _Goyle didn't say anything after Lucius. He sat there, his face tight and furious. He wouldn't back out of this—these men and women—they were the only family he knew. For years, he had fought alongside them—never questioning their actions. But this—he couldn't accept this. No matter the cause. But he remained silent as Lucius stared him down._

 _"Very well," Nott then closed the blueprints, returning to his seat. "The next order of business is who will take over as guardian for the boy."_

 _"I thought it was Snape?" Crabbe asked._

 _Yaxley nodded. "Speaking of Severus. Where is he?"_

 _At this question, everyone—even Lord Voldemort, Nott, and Zabini—turned to look at Lucius. It seems as he was responsible for Snape's presence. Yet Lucius did not look guilty of his misdoing. Did he do it on purpose? And if that was the case, what was Lucius's plan? No one else was capable of taking the boy under their wing._

 _"I don't know." Lucius lied. He then looked at the Dark Lord. "He should've been here by now, my Lord."_

 _The Dark Lord had a look of disappointment on his face. "No matter, we shall elect a new guardian for my grandson."_

 _Terrell Nott nodded, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Does anyone have any suggestions?"_

 _The room was quiet. No one was willing to take on the mantle to be Tobias's new guardian. It seemed that nobody wanted the pressure of being the trainer of the future Heir to the Throne._

 _"What about Crouch?" Lucius offered. "He's still young. I believe he was one of your best fighters, my Lord."_

 _"Indeed he was." Replied the Dark wizard._

 _Nott scribbled the name down. "Anyone oppose? Any other suggestions?"_

 _Still silence._

 _"Then, it is done." Said Lucius Malfoy, with a masked expression on his face. "Crouch Jr. shall be Tobias's new guardian."_

 _"And what will happen with Snape?" Yaxley asked. "He is still a spy for the Order, is he not?"_

 _Lucius nodded. "He is. But given Crouch's newest position, he will be the one to decide what happens to Snape."_

 _"Can we trust that he will do the right thing?" Crabbe asked. "This is much for a man who will be just escaping the horrors of Azkaban."_

 _"No worries, my brothers. He will be more than ready."_

* * *

"Ah there you are, Mister Hercules" whispered Theodore, eyeing the constellation in the sky. He sat on the edge of the pond, running his hands through the snowy grass. He was a few miles out from Ron's house, but he had never told the redhead about his travels here. He had found this pond by mistake, during one of his runaway episodes from home. He fell in love with the beauty of it, the peace that it brought him. The hours he spent, pointing out constellations—enjoying his life without the burdens of his duties weighing upon him.

He didn't have to think about his father, or his mother's sickness. He didn't have to think about Lord Voldemort's death, and what that meant for him and the rest of the heirs. He didn't have to think about Tobias's plan to kill Sirius Black. He didn't have to think about how all his friends were split up—or how he wanted to snap Draco's neck.

Here, in this moment, Theodore Nott had found peace.

"You come here, often." He heard a light, airy voice say. If he hadn't remembered the voice, he would've thought it was an angel. The brown-haired Slytherin turned around, making eye contact with the Ravenclaw known as Luna Lovegood.

He raised an eyebrow at her, noticing that she wasn't wearing any shoes. She had to be cold. "I feel like you know the answer to that, Lovegood. Wait, was that even a question?"

The girl shrugged. "You answered it as such, maybe it was." She then walked over, sitting beside Theodore in the snow. He was surprised how comfortable she felt sitting next to a Slytherin, especially one of the heirs to Lord Voldemort.

"Aren't you cold?" Theodore asked, his view returning to Luna's feet.

"Oh yes, my feet are very cold." Luna responded dreamily, wiggling her toes.

"So, where are your shoes?"

"Oh, the older years took them. They like to hide my things."

"And you just," Theodore frowned. He wondered why anyone would do that to Luna. She never did anything to anyone. "you just let them take it?"

"Why fight it? The things we lose always have a way of coming back to us in the end." She put her head on her knees. "That's what my mother always said."

Theodore nodded, taking in Luna's words. He thought about them way past a lost pair of sneakers. If anything, it gave him hope about the thing he had lost so far—his friends.

"Does your mother give you a lot of advice?" He asked.

"No, not anymore." Said the Ravenclaw. "She died when I was nine. She was doing a very complex spell and it backfired. It happened right in front of me, you know."

The Slytherin boy frowned again—it seemed as if he wasn't the only one in the world with a lot on his plate. "Do you miss her?"

Luna nodded, smiling at Theodore. "I think about her a lot. Sometimes I feel sad, but I know I will see her again after death."

Theodore couldn't understand how Luna was so calm talking about her mother. He knew that if he had lost his mother, and witnessed it the way Luna had—he wasn't sure if he would be the same again. It was like the things that happened in her life didn't affect her—they didn't weigh her down. Not like how Theodore was letting his. He then took off his scarf, handing the garment to Luna, who took it—ultimately not understanding why he gave it to her.

"It's for your feet." He said. "You can keep it if you like. I heard they make really nice replacements for shoes."

"I didn't hear that." Luna replied, but nevertheless she wrapped the scarf around her feet. She sighed happily. "But I assume whoever told you was right."

The two sat there in silence. Theodore had never felt so comfortable sitting next to another person and not running his mouth about something. In his mind, company meant conversation.

"This is very peaceful, Theodore." Luna said, her voice still airy and light. "I see why you enjoy it here."

Theodore nodded, looking at the girl sitting next to him. She had dirty-blonde hair and she wore a large purple coat. Her silvery eyes were focused on the stars above, and the Slytherin wondered if she was pointing out the constellations just as he was earlier.

"Is this your first time talking to a Slytherin?" He asked her.

"No, I've spoken to a few." She replied, her silver eyes now boring into Theodore's dark-blue ones. "But none of them are as nice as you. They usually call me names—or insult my father."

Again, another flame of anger sparked in Theodore. "You should've hexed them." He said through gritted teeth.

Luna answered as airily as before, as if Theodore's tone didn't affect her. "Why? I know why they say those things—they're hurt."

"That doesn't give them—" The boy groaned, growing frustrated with Luna's nonchalant tone. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How do you just…bypass all the bad things that happen to you?" Theodore looked back at her, thinking about all the things she had just told him. Her shoes, her mother, the Slytherins. "Like it doesn't affect you?"

Luna looked at him with a pensive look. "Should it?"

Theodore narrowed his eyes at her. "This is one of those reverse phycology things, isn't it?"

Luna laughed, but she didn't answer. Theodore sighed again, growing frustrated with Luna's ways of socializing. But nevertheless, he enjoyed her company. The things she said, whether she did it on purpose or not (probably not)—it made him think bigger than what he had come to forget in the first place. He thought about all the things he had reacted to over the years, things he had allowed his anger to take over and make a mess of. The words Zabini said, the things his grandmother said about his mother, the things Draco said to Hermione—Luna's words made him think about what would have happened had he just brushed it off.

"Penny for your thoughts, Theodore?" Luna asked. Theodore hadn't even realized that she had been staring at him the whole time. And yet, it didn't even bother him.

"I was just thinking," He said, looking at the stars. "Who do you think would win in a fight? Batman or Superman?"

Luna said her answer without even thinking about it, not even noticing that Theodore was lying. Or maybe she did. "Batman."

"What makes you say that?"

"Who doesn't love bats? Especially when they turn into blood sucking vampires."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't think we're talking about the same person."

"Are we not talking about the murderous madman from the hills who comes every Halloween and travels from village to village in the form of a bat?" asked Luna, her face in a confused frown. Theodore was shocked—she actually believed that.

"Uhhhh…you know what? Forget I asked."

* * *

The next morning, Kingsley arrived at the Ministry of Magic only to find every floor in a form of disarray. He stepped off the elevator to the top floor, finding that there was no difference. He saw owls and memos flying from desk to desk—some flying into Fudge's mail slot. It was if Christmas was a dream, and everyone was now returning back to reality.

The wizard pushed through the chaos, making his way to the black oak door that belonged to the Minister. He knocked once, barely hearing Fudge's voice that allowed him to enter. Kingsley turned the knob, entering Fudge's office. He was surprised—or maybe not—to find Lucius Malfoy on the other side of the Minister's desk. Kingsley supposed they were there for the same reason.

"Mister Shacklebot." Lucius Malfoy addressed him, relieving himself from his previous seat. The man grabbed his cane. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine." Kingsley responded. "And yours?"

The other man sighed. "I've had better. I was just talking to the Minister about the breakout at Azkaban. Many of those men and women who were slaughtered…. they were close friends of mine."

"Of course. I'm sorry for your loss."

Malfoy nodded. "Thank you." He then addressed Fudge. "If you would excuse me, Cornelius, I should be going."

"Actually, Lucius," Kingsley stopped the man before he reached the door. "I was hoping you would stay, this matter pertains to you as well."

The wizard caught the slight change in expression Lucius Malfoy gave him once saying this. Nevertheless, Malfoy nodded, claiming his seat once more. Fudge seemed confused—as if he had noticed the secret tension between the two wizards.

"What is it, Kingsley?" The Minister asked, adjusting his top hat.

"Severus Snape is missing." The wizard announced, his eyes meeting the gray ones of Malfoy. "Dumbledore and the rest of the teachers at Hogwarts are worried something may have happened to him. Word is he never leaves the castle for the holidays."

Fudge chuckled. " _Missing?_ Are you sure he just didn't take a vacation?"

"Severus isn't the one for vacations," Lucius chipped in. "How long has he been missing?" He directed this question towards Kingsley.

"A few days now—no one has been able to contact him. I wouldn't be pressing this matter so soon, Minister, but Snape is a Hogwarts professor, and the students will be returning in a week or so."

There was a long pause. Kingsley discreetly watched Lucius, waiting for any sign of fear, or deceit. But the blonde-haired man made no sudden movements—if anything, he looked as serious as Kingsley did. It made the wizard wonder…was Lucius also unaware of Snape's absence?

Fudge sighed, leaning back into his desk chair. "It's always something, isn't it?" He looked towards Lucius. "And you haven't seen him, Lucius?"

"No sir, I'm afraid I haven't." answered Malfoy. "We were supposed to meet about a week ago, but he never showed. I figured he may have been busy—but never did I think…"

The man trailed off, but Kingsley had caught something in Lucius' words. He said that he and Snape were supposed to meet about a week ago, but Snape never showed. The wizard remembered that it had also been a week since he last saw Snape at Azkaban—meaning that the wizard disappeared sometime between then and Lucius's acclaimed meeting. Did that mean there was another player in this game? Or was Lucius hiding something?

"I suppose you will need the Aurors to do an extensive search?" said Fudge.

Kingsley nodded. "Yes sir."

"I can offer my services as well," Malfoy said. "Severus is my closest friend. I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to him and I didn't do what was needed to be done to find him."

"And what _services_ do you have to offer, Mister Malfoy?" Kingsley asked, wondering what Malfoy was playing at.

Fudge was the one to answer this question. "Oh, just a group of young volunteers Lucius found. What do you call them again, Lucius?"

Malfoy smiled humbly. "The Ministry of Magic Task Squad." His words seemed to be directed towards Kingsley now. "We recruit newly graduated students from all around the country, guiding them in a more positive direction. To provide a safer, more connected Wizarding Community."

Kingsley couldn't deny the red flag that went off in his head as he heard this. "Wonderful, we can use all the help we can get."

"Then it's settled." Lucius said, standing up once more. "I'll notify the Task Squad. If you all hear anything new, please alert me."

"Of course, Lucius." Said Fudge. Kingsley said nothing as Malfoy walked right passed him. Still, the wizard could not find any sign of an alternative plan. Either way, he still felt uncomfortable with Lucius being on the missing person's case. If Malfoy did have anything to do with Snape's disappearance, he and his Task Squad would make sure that Snape stayed missing. He knew he had to alert the Order right away, they had to get to Snape before Lucius did—whether the man was sincere about his offer or not.

* * *

Severus tried to catch his breath, as he was once more used as target practice for Crouch Jr. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. He didn't have his wand and the cell prevented him from using wandless magic. He was vulnerable against Crouch Jr. He had no way of contacting the Order and he was pretty sure no one knew where he was.

So as he sat there, on the stone cold floor of his prison cell, he tried to think about what he had learned so far from Goyle's memories. For one, he found out that Goyle greatly protested the breakout, and the massacre that followed. Could that be the reason he feared Crouch like he did? There had to be some consequence—seeing that the man stayed.

Second, he knew that Lucius was lying. Snape never received a letter from Malfoy about a meeting. He had no knowledge of the Dark Lord's oncoming death or the Azkaban breakout. All of this news was coming as a surprise to him. Why didn't anybody tell him? Why didn't anybody reach out to him before? A better question would be: Why was he being kept in the dark?

Third, it seemed as if Lucius wanted Crouch Jr. in the position of Heir to the Throne. But why? Crouch barely knew the boy—he didn't know of his true parentage. He didn't know what the boy was made of—yet Lucius saw it fit for him to become Tobias's guardian. Snape shook his head—there had to be a bigger plan to all of this. Lucius and Crouch were planning something—and it seemed the Dark Lord was unaware of it as well.

The man opened his eyes as he heard footsteps coming down to the dungeon. He held his breath, hoping that it wasn't Crouch Jr. returning for another round. A wave of relief washed over him as he saw Goyle step into the light. The man wore the same unemotional face as he had for the past few days. He stared at Snape for a moment before turning his back to the prisoner.

Snape stood, walking a few steps behind Goyle. "How much more do I have to see?" He whispered.

"Not much." Goyle grunted. "But you need to hurry, Crouch will be releasing you soon."

"How can I hurry when you keep blocking me out of your memories?" The other man growled.

"I'm not blocking you now."

Snape wanted to retort, but he thought better of it, seeing as he was already wasting time. Goyle wanted him to know something—and he didn't have much time to figure it out. If Crouch was releasing him, that meant that Snape wouldn't have access to Goyle's memories anymore. He wouldn't be able to warn Dumbledore—or anyone—of what Crouch and Lucius had planned. And if he couldn't warn anyone— _Merlin help us all._

The wizard then closed his eyes, allowing himself to be sucked inside Goyle's memories once more.

 **Author's Note: Lots of pairings. Lots of irony. Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	55. POA17: Forget and Forgive, Right?

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality

Bohemian Rhapsody x Queen

Chapter 55: Forget and Forgive, Right?

 _"But I booked the field!" Wood spat. "I booked it!"_

 _Blaise watched as the scene unfolded. The Slytherins had just interrupted the Gryffindors training session, and Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, wasn't too happy about it. The tan Slytherin realized that this was the "unwanted company" that Flint spoke about the night before._

 _"Ah, yes," Flint said promptly. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape."_

 _Wood snatched the note as soon as Flint pulled it out, furiously reading the contents. A delicious smirk crept upon Blaise's face while the Gryffindor Captain's turned redder by the second. Another moment and the crowd of Slytherins had split to reveal Blaise to the Gryffindor team—he had just been announced the new chaser._

 _"And speaking of new things," Flint continued. "Check out the new brooms, Wood. Nimbus 2001s—a gift from Draco's father."_

 _Blaise heard himself say the words before he thought about them. "Still using Cleansweep Fives, Weasley? You're going to need something much better to catch up with us."_

 _He heard Malfoy snort at his comment—enjoying the moment event further as LeStrange nudged the boy in the ribs. The next moments began as Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley arrived on the field._

 _"Oh look, a field invasion." Flint sneered._

 _Blaise felt something snap inside him when he saw Weasley and Granger. He didn't think it was necessarily Weasley—or maybe it was. Or maybe it was the fact that he was with Granger. What had they been doing moments before?_

 _Weasley spoke as soon as they were in ear shot of the rest. "What's going on? And what is 'he' doing?"_

 _Their eyes locked and Blaise was ready for a fight. "Jealous, Weasley? I'm the new Slytherin chaser."_

 _"Are those—"_

 _Blaise lifted his Nimbus 2001, holding it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. "Yes, they are. Oh, don't worry, Oliver. I'm sure you and the rest of the Gryffindor losers can raise enough gold and get new brooms, too. I heard the Quidditch Hall of Fame Museum is looking for ancient merchandise."_

 _It was then that Granger spoke up, and though her voice was sharp and cold, he couldn't help but listen to her._

 _"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to 'buy' their way in." She said. "They got in on pure talent."_

 _Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, but Blaise raised his hand to stop him. He would handle Granger._

 _"No one asked your opinion," He spat, the words burning like fire. "you filthy little Mudblood!"_

 _The next moments were filled with screams and the sound of Weasley's wand backfiring. As the Slytherins laughed, Blaise felt his head collapsing within itself. Everything was becoming harder to see, harder to hear. All he could see was darkness—and then…. he was gone._

His eyes snapped open, and Blaise Zabini found himself on the floor of his bedroom. His clothes were soaked with sweat and he had a massive headache. He stood up, catching eye of the green Slytherin Quidditch uniform laid out on his bed. It had happened again—another episode. Another memory changed.

But that wasn't what troubled him. In his time, Draco Malfoy had been the one to call Granger a mudblood. In this time, however, he was the one who said the horrible words. Had this been a few months ago, the tan Slytherin wouldn't have cared about it. But now, now that he had, Merlin Forbid, _feelings_ for Granger—it made him feel guilty.

Why hadn't she brought it up? To be honest, they never talked about the alternate-Blaise. They never talked about the alternate past. It wasn't hard to see why, but with his "condition", Blaise felt like he needed to talk about it. He needed to know his alternate's past before it was forced upon him and he didn't make it out.

He sat down on his bed, rubbing his temples from the massive headache he had. The pains were getting worse, and the tan Slytherin couldn't help but wonder how much time he had left. Everything was about time. The past. The present. The future. Everything was about the metal globe-like device clicking steady on his chest. Sometimes he wished he didn't have it—but it did give him something.

A chance to be a better person. To make a new name for Blaise Zabini. This world he created was unfamiliar, but he felt like one day he would be able to call it home. Though his only friend would be Hermione Granger and he would lose his chance with Ginny, it would be better than returning to his time.

This time, he would have a chance.

* * *

"He bought you a _bracelet? And you gave it back?"_

" _Theo._ "

"I'm just saying."

Hermione, Tobias, and Theodore sat in the snowy grass of the Gryffindor witch's backyard. As promised, the two Slytherin boys had stopped by to deliver Hermione's Christmas present. Tobias and Theodore had gotten Hermione a joint present- an enchanted bookcase that the witch could shrink and expand at her will, filling it with as many books as she wanted. Though Hermione loved the gift—she couldn't help thinking about the gift from Draco. The same gift that she had denied Christmas evening. Unable to convince herself that she did the right thing, she expressed the situation to Pansy, Tobias, and Theodore.

As she expected, Pansy told her that denying Draco's gift was the right thing to do. But Hermione knew she was only saying it because the Slytherin girl wasn't a big fan of the Malfoy heir—and the fact that the Gryffindor witch had a small crush on Blaise Zabini. Tobias and Theodore, due to their lack of this knowledge on her newest crush, had different opinions on the matter.

Hermione sighed. "I wanted to take it. I really did. But would that have made up for what happened before the holidays?"

"No." said Tobias.

Theodore rolled his eyes. "You're only saying that 'cause you're also mad at Draco. But you guys are missing the point of why he bought Hermione the bracelet."

"And what point is that?" The other boy snorted.

"It's obvious that Draco feels bad about what happened before we left school." Reasoned Theodore. "Though, I will admit, he picked a horrible way of trying to make amends, but he's trying."

Hermione was silent. Why hadn't she spoken to Theodore earlier? He always knew what to say. He was the one who helped her make amends with Ron during their first year, as well as Draco when he found out she was muggleborn. Had she'd heard his words a few days ago, maybe she would've taken Draco's Christmas present. Now, a small part of her felt guilty. Despite everything, it was true. He was trying.

"So?" Tobias, however, disagreed. "He knew the truth about my father's death and decided against the idea to tell me. I'm supposed to forget all that because he bought me a Christmas gift?"

"You don't have to forget, Tobias." The other boy said, bringing his knees to his chest. "But you should forgive him. He didn't turn his back on you when you lied about Hermione's blood heritage."

"I did that to protect Hermione from Zabini."

"And he lied to protect you from Sirius Black." Retorted Theodore. "So I guess that makes you two even."

"Theodore's right." Hermione said suddenly.

Tobias felt his mouth drop open. "Hermione, you can't be serious?"

"Draco's stood by you, Tobias." The witch continued. "He's stood by all of us. Ever since first year. Yes, we've had our bad times and he makes really stupid mistakes—but there hasn't been a time where we couldn't depend on him."

The Slytherin boy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I guess you're right." He then turned to Theodore. "Since when did you become the wise one?"

Theodore shrugged. "I was just thinking about what Luna told me the other day."

"Luna?" Hermione asked slowly, raising a brow at the familiar name. "You mean—"

" _Loony Lovegood?_ " Tobias asked surprisingly, his face also in one of confusion.

"She isn't loony!" snapped Theodore. "People just see her that way because she's different. People pick on her and take her things, but she doesn't even care. She believes that people do and say certain things because they're hurt."

Another scoff from Tobias. "So we're supposed to believe Draco said all those things to Hermione because he was _hurt?_ "

"Why not?" Theodore continued. "After I talked with Luna, I thought about what happened between us. It may sound weird, but Draco was hurt. His best friend just found out the truth about his father, and that Draco had been hiding it the whole time. And on top of that, he was afraid of losing his best friends—which he did by the way."

Tobias was silent. He had never thought about the situation from Draco's point of view. Until now, the Slytherin heir felt like it was no point. Draco always felt like whatever he did was the right thing, and this situation was no different. No Christmas present could make up for the fact that Draco lied to him. But did that mean that Draco wasn't allowed to feel bad? Did that mean that Tobias couldn't forgive him?

"Draco says a lot of stupid stuff, but we know deep down he doesn't mean it."

Hermione closed her eyes, her guilt building by the second. Everything Theodore was saying was true. She was too smart to not see that Draco was hurting as well, but she was so wrapped up in what he said and how it hurt her- she was only focused on herself. And though the bracelet wasn't the best way to fix the problem, Draco was trying—and she turned him away. She couldn't imagine how the blonde Slytherin was feeling right now. She hoped he was okay.

"So, what?" Tobias said, his voice not as defensive as before. "We forget about this whole thing and become pals again?"

Theodore rubbed his hands together, blowing on them in an attempt to warm himself up. " _Not forget_ , forgive."

Hermione opened her eyes. "I think we should give him a chance. We don't have to rush into anything—but we've already split up once…."

The Gryffindor witch trailed off, but she didn't have to say anything else. All three of them had grown silent, each one thinking the same thing. This wasn't the first time their friend group had fallen apart. And with it happening a second time, no one was sure that the group would recover from it. But each of the third years had to admit—they had always been there for each other. Through their ups and downs, and their illogical plans of mischief—there wasn't another set of students at Hogwarts they would have chosen to experience it with. And maybe that was the reason they gave Draco another chance.

"You guys are the only friends I have." Theodore said, breaking the silence. "In fact, I'm pretty sure we are the only friends we have."

* * *

Snape slid his back against the cold walls of his prison cell until he reached the floor. His breaths were slow and deep—this was the longest he had stayed in Goyle's mind. And there was so much to process. So much to understand. He kept his eyes closed, trying to hold on to the memories he had just seen. A part of him felt sick, another part of him was angry. He felt a light shiver flow through his skin, but he was unable to react like a normal person would.

In fact, nothing in his life was normal. He would like to say this whole predicament was outrageous and unorthodox—but everything he had been through was outrageous and unorthodox. He should have seen this coming. It was no surprise—but for a moment, everything felt unusual. And that feeling broke Snape from the reality that nothing was ever usual in his life. This was no surprise; this was just another day.

And with that, he began to laugh. And once he started, he couldn't stop. He felt his throat vibrate in ways it he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt his stomach and his chest tighten. But he couldn't stop. He didn't stop when Goyle turned around, beckoning for him to stop. He didn't stop when Crouch Jr. entered the dungeon, his wand at ready. And as each curse struck him, the laughter did not cease. In this moment, he felt no pain. He felt no doom. He accepted his fate.

This was no surprise—this was just another day.

 _Previously in Goyle's head…._

 _The view of the room was limited. It seemed that Goyle was hiding from someone. But who? The crack in the door grew smaller as distant footsteps could be heard from outside the door. Two people, both walking at different paces. They met at the center of the room._

 _"I've given you what you wanted." The voice of Lucius Malfoy could be heard. "Now it's time for you to uphold your end of the bargain."_

 _The other wizard spoke. "Tell me, Lucius," said the voice of Bartemius Crouch Jr. "What do you hope to gain out of driving Severus Snape into insanity? We could use him."_

 _"Once you come into power there will be no need for him," Lucius responded. "but if all fails, we need a scapegoat. And with his reputation at Hogwarts and the rest of the wizarding community, he will be perfect."_

 _"I don't see the point. There are thousands of the Dark Lord's followers downstairs—none of them who play a role as important as Severus. Despite how you feel, we need him. The Dark Lord and his empire would be nothing without Snape's efforts."_

 _There was a loud gag, and the body that was Crouch Jr. was now kneeling on the marble floor of LeStrange Manor. His hands where wrapped around his throat, as if he was trying to pry off the invisible hands that were now choking him. But his eyes never left his abuser. His demeanor never changed._

 _"Severus Snape is my oldest friend." There was a mournful feel in Malfoy's voice. He spoke slow and sincere. The way he said the words were so compelling, Crouch could do nothing but listen—now ignoring the fact that he was being choked._

 _"I taught him everything I knew when we attended Hogwarts. I was the one who shaped him into the soldier Voldemort now praises. I gave him guidance when he had no one to go to, and as we grew older, he was then the one who then gave me guidance when I had no one. He was like my own brother, but more."_

 _There was a silence. The room begged for more, as did the man hiding in the bedroom closet._

 _"You are correct when you say that Severus is the reason why the Dark Lord's empire still thrives to this day. He was always the best of us—the strongest of us. Even when we saw him as weak, he was always one step ahead. And that is what Voldemort admired most about him. It is what drove his decision into making Severus the guardian of the one thing that could kill us all."_

 _Lucius then muttered something and Crouch Jr. was released. The man fell to the floor, gasping loudly for whatever air would fill his lungs. The room was now filled with raspy coughing and desperate gasping. But that didn't stop the man from speaking._

 _"You sound jealous, Malfoy. Umph!"_

 _From the sound of impact and the sight of Crouch clutching his stomach, it could be assumed that Lucius kicked him._

 _"Jealous?!" His voice was higher, malicious. They were all seeing a new side of Lucius Malfoy. A side that was completely different from the cool and cunning persona the public had always seen._

 _"There is no need for me to jealous when I am this close to having everything I've ever wanted. Having the throne or control of the boy means nothing to me—but having control of the strings, that is different. I don't want him dead, I just want him weak. I created Severus Snape—I made him into what he is, and I demand my reward. The Death Eaters will bow to me, and then so will the rest of the world."_

 _He crouches before the injured man, setting his wand against Crouch's throat. A green threatening light glows against Crouch's skin. And as the light grows brighter, the room faded more into darkness._

 _"And you will help me. It is because of me you are granted this pathetic position, and if you defy me, it will be me that makes sure that everything you ever loved and cared for is destroyed. That is a promise."_

 _The green light faded away, and the room returned to its midnight scenery. The set of footsteps that belonged to Lucius Malfoy walked out of the room, closing the door behind him as he left. Crouch Jr. remained on the floor, pulling out his wand to heal his wounds. He then stood up and walked out of sight. The crack in the door grows wider before it is snatched opened by Bartemius Crouch Jr._

 _"Good." The man said darkly, and there is a change in his eyes. A newfound hatred and desire. "You heard everything." His wand slightly touches Goyle's leg as he says the spell. There is a feeling of something crawling under his skin, and then there was nothing but darkness._

Crouch Jr. finished his last curse, the spell ending in Snape lying on the dungeon floor, now unconscious. The laughter had stopped moments before, and from there it turned into silence.

Goyle stepped beside Crouch. "Is he dead?"

"No." The wizard responded. "I just tortured him enough to knock him unconscious. How far are you with the memories?"

"Almost done. He just learned about Lucius."

"Good, good." Said Crouch Jr. His eyes never left Snape's unanimated body. "He may try to fight against your touch now, but he needs to see the rest."

Goyle also couldn't tear his eyes away from Snape. "And then what?"

"Then, we will reveal our true purpose to him. And Lucius Malfoy shall receive his reward."

* * *

The next Order of the Phoenix meeting was called that day and there was still no sign of Severus Snape. The members sat around the Black family table, each of their eyes unconsciously staring at the seat that belonged to the missing wizard. All of their leads led to a dead end. The Ministry had no clues or ideas of where Snape could be. These were one of the times when the Order wished the man hadn't kept his life so private.

There was a loud crack outside of 12 Grimmauld Place, but nobody moved, assuming it was Dumbledore or Lupin. And nobody reacted as Dumbledore walked in as expected, and Lupin right behind him. But the atmosphere of the kitchen quickly changed when Sirius Black walked in behind the two.

Arthur was the first to react, snatching his wife behind him—his wand aimed at the ex-con. Mad-Eye, Kingsley, and Tonks followed suit—their faces filled with anger, fear, and uncertainty. What was Sirius Black doing here? Why were Dumbledore and Lupin so calm?

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here," Mad-Eye growled. "Think you can just murder people and we welcome you back with open arms?"

Sirius smiled. "I've missed you too, Alastor."

"Is someone going to tell us what is going on?" Arthur demanded. "What is _he_ doing _here_?"

"Well, one, this is _my_ house," Sirius retorted. "So I guess you can say I'm coming home from a long day at work."

Lupin closed his eyes in annoyance, he knew that this would happen if Sirius attended the meeting. But of course, Dumbledore never listens.

"Sirius is here," he said slowly, "Because he has collected some important information about Snape."

Tonks dropped her wand at Lupin's words. "Have you all found him?"

"We have reason to believe that he might be hiding in LeStrange Manor somewhere, but—"

"But that would mean Lucius would have found him already," Kingsley interrupted, "yet, the Ministry nor the Task Squad has had any leads on where Snape could be."

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Task Squad?"

"Ministry business," grunted Mad-Eye. He had also set his wand down, but only for the purpose to take a swig from his flask. After taking a strong gulp, he resumed his previous position. His beady eyes landing directly on Sirius's. "You said you had some information on Snape?"

"Well I did, but it seems to have all gone to shit if Lucius Malfoy doesn't know where he is."

"Just tell them what you told me." Remus said.

The other wizard nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He rolled his eyes as the other members tightened their grip on their wands.

"I went to LeStrange Manor a few days ago, looking for Peter Pettigrew, because, if you all should know, _I didn't kill him._ But I had no luck, I camped out there for three days and nothing. But I did notice that a lot of Death Eaters were coming out of hiding."

Tonks frowned. "Why?"

"Hell if I know." Sirius continued. "But on the third day, right when I was about to leave, more started arriving—it was like a black, haunting flood. Death Eaters and supporters alike. It felt like…"

Kingsley responded this time, understanding the words that Sirius didn't say. "What were they there for?"

"A funeral."

At those words, a gear clicked in Dumbledore's mind. Of course, he had felt it, but nothing was ever sure with Voldemort unless you lived to hear about it. But hearing the truth being confirmed was the least of Dumbledore's worries—the question of "What would happen next?" had the most horrific possibilities.

Molly Weasley stepped out of her husband's protective shielding, her ears prepared to hear the worst.

"Whose funeral was it?" She asked the question that no one else dared to ask. With everything going on, could they bare this, too? Would they be ready to accept their ultimate failure?

"It was Lord Voldemort's." Dumbledore said. Hhe could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth. His thoughts were drowning everything out. _What would happen now?_ "Tom Riddle is dead."

The room went silent. No one knew how to react to this news. Should they cheer? Should they be worried? After all these years, why didn't Voldemort's death feel like a win for the Order? Why did it just feel like the end of everything they knew and loved?

Arthur seemed skeptical of the headmaster's words. "Is that…is that even possible?"

"He had the stone." Kingsley said, seeming confused. "We gave him the Philosopher's Stone. We _gave_ Lord Voldemort immortality—how is he dead?"

Lupin shrugged. "Maybe it had something to do with Neville Longbottom destroying Voldemort's diary. The diary was a part of his soul. And in destroying that…"

"He destroyed Voldemort." Mad-Eye snorted. "So, that's all it took, eh?"

Tonks spoke next, trying to put Sirius's story together. "So with Voldemort dead, and the mass of Death Eaters arriving at LeStrange Manor…could it be that they are deciding on who will be the next leader?"

"They've already chosen." Kingsley answered, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore. "In the event that Lord Voldemort died before Tobias was of age, the mantle of Heir to the Dark Lord would fall upon Tobias's guardian."

Molly Weasley gasped. "Snape."

Kingsley nodded. "But with Snape missing, it's hard to assume what his position is in all this mess. He could be unaware of Voldemort's death. Or he could be aware and he's been planning this since the day we let him in the Order." The wizard then shot a look at Sirius. "Where was Tobias?"

"At the funeral." Sirius responded. "However, there was no sign of Snape."

"What about Bellatrix and Crouch Jr.?" asked Tonks.

"Front and center, both of them."

Mad-Eye grunted. "Wonder where they fall in the puzzle."

"I have a feeling they may be the ones controlling the pieces, Alastor." Lupin responded. "One moment they break out of Azkaban, murdering everyone inside. The next moment, Lord Voldemort is dead and every Death Eater that went missing over ten years ago comes out of hiding. They're planning something."

"Meaning that Lucius Malfoy is a part of it somehow." Kingsley shook his head. "I knew something wasn't right…I knew it. Between Malfoy, Bellatrix, and Crouch Jr., if Snape is involved, he's definitely unaware of what they're planning… he could be in danger."

"Or already dead." Said Mad-Eye.

"They wouldn't kill Severus." Sirius said. This was his first time saying something outside of his reconnaissance mission. "Severus is the only link they have to us and Dumbledore. They need him."

Another silence. Mad-Eye took a swing from his flask, seeming unmoved by Sirius's words. He smacked his lips, boring his eyes into the ex-con across from him.

"But for how long?"

* * *

The Hog's Head. Not the best pub in Hogsmeade, but for one looking to get drunk and doing it away from the public eye, this was the place. It was quiet. Customers kept to themselves, and when someone suspicious came in, no one asked questions. Some wizards barely remember it's there. But tonight, everyone would remember the Hog's Head forever.

"WHERE IS HE?!" The walls literally shook.

The wizard crawled away from his attacker as fast as he could. He didn't think he could take another hit. His fear couldn't be described—but it was like he was looking the devil in the face. Everything was red, yet no one was there to help.

"I dunno, I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed frantically. "Nobody's seen 'im. I swear….I SWEAR!"

His attacker stepped forward. The man before him had transformed from a normal man to a barbarian. His sleeves were rolled up and his fists were covered in blood. Most wizards would use their wand to torture someone—but that wouldn't be enough. Not tonight. Not when the anger and the pain were rushing through him like rapids.

"There's word that all the Death Eaters are coming out of hiding." The attacker said. "Going to LeStrange Manor? Right?"

The victim cowered. "Yeh, yeh that's righ'! All o' 'em! But I swear…I swear I didn' see 'im! NO! PLEASE! NO!"

"Wrong answer."

The next sounds being heard were the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Over and over again. But the attacker was not angry at the man. He was angry because he had no answers. Angry because the man who murdered his mother was nowhere to be found. Severus Snape, the Heir to the Throne, murdered his mother…and was now missing. _Bullshit._ Another blow. A man he trusted with his life. A man two years ago he would've died for. Again, and again.

He grabbed the man by his robe collar. The attacker pulled him so close he could literally feel the fear radiating off him. He could see his reflection in the man's eyes, and he didn't recognize himself. But would that stop him? No. Everything was changing—he might as well join the wave.

"I'm going to ask you one more time." The attacker said, his voice calm and deadly. "Where is Severus Snape? WHERE IS HE?!" He roared.

The other wizard could barely breathe, bursting into tears as he spoke. "I don't know…I don't know…please…"

Another blow. _Just for kicks._

The attacker stood up. He knew he had run into a dead end, even if it did take him a few punches to realize it. It made him even angrier that this one didn't fight back. He turned away from the injured Death Eater, leaving the man badly beaten and whimpering. No one else in the pub dared to help him. No one dared to say anything or do anything. If anything, they were trying to put their stories together to let everyone know what happened. He was expecting that…so everyone would know who he was looking for.

"I'll see you around, Aberforth." The man said, setting his payment down on the table.

"Hm." The bartender responded. The door to the pub closed, signaling the attacker's departure. Aberforth looked down at the wounded Death Eater, who was now using a pint of firewhiskey to ice his blackened eye.

"You'll have to pay for that." He grunted. "And once you've done that, clean this shit up. Bloody coward."

* * *

 _Do you know what it's like—to betray your best friend? You might say you feel guilty or worse. The thought of what you've done might make you feel sick at night. You can't sleep. You can't eat. How can you? With the thought of them and your betrayal consuming your brain. And you know what I would tell you?_

 _You're weak._

Lucius Malfoy stood on the balcony of his grand estate, taking in the scenery of his kingdom. Since he was a boy, he knew it was his destiny to rule Malfoy Manor as it was his own. That he would have the power to control everyone and everything in it. He could demand sunlight in the darkest of nights. He could make it snow in the middle of July. He could have the house elves prepare him a grand dinner in the middle of the night—and make them clean it up without even touching the dining room. And it was the fact that he could do these things that made his fingers tingle with grace.

But he wanted more.

 _Imagine. All the power in the world…and it belonged to you. It was your destiny, and every step you took brought you closer to it. You could taste it. There was just one last obstacle. One last hurdle and you would have everything you've ever wanted._

 _Wouldn't you take it?_

Time and time again, it had been proven to Lucius Malfoy that his power did not exceed Malfoy Manor. Every time he stepped out of his home and into another part of the wizarding world, he was subject to someone else, someone who had power far greater than his. His fingers would trade their gracious tingle for something more envious—something bloodthirsty. He wanted more.

So, as Lord Voldemort prepared for his demise, Lucius prepared for his uprising. Heir to the Throne sounded tempting, but it was too small. Because even the Heir to the Throne worships a higher power—and Lucius wanted to be that higher power. He wanted to be the one moving the pieces into to place. Everyone would be his puppets—and he would control the strings. And now, at this very moment, he was so close—but there was just one thing in his way.

 _My father once told me "be selfish." Some things only happen once—don't be the good guy who misses their chance being "fair." Looking back on my life, one could say I didn't listen. I gave everything away for one person. I gave too much to receive so little in return. Well, Father, I hear you now. And I shall take what is mine._

All his pawns were in position and everything was falling like dominos—the most beautiful and arousing chain reaction. And all of the pieces would continue to fall until they reached the end—the power, the glory, and everything he ever wanted. But even as these dominos fell, there was still one obstacle in the way. One thing he had to get rid of…

 _So again, I ask, do you know what it feels like to betray your best friend? I do. It feels liberating. Empowering. It feels like destiny._

"Lucius."

A voice brought him out of his thoughts. The blonde-haired man turned around to find his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, standing in the archway of the balcony doors. She wasn't smiling like she used to. She would smile one day, however, when they had everything—and he could give her the world. Just one last obstacle.

"Yes, my love." He said smoothly.

His wife did not react to his tone. "Crouch is waiting for you downstairs. I tried to tell him you were busy, but—"

"It's alright, Cissa. Actually, I was done here." Lucius Malfoy then strolled away from the upstairs balcony, shutting the doors behind him. He grabbed his cane and headed towards his bedroom door. But before he left…

"You can come too, my dear." He said to his wife. He was amused by his wife's surprised expression. He knew why she was so shocked—he had always kept her out of business like this. But now there was no need to hide anymore. No need to lie. Just one more obstacle.

He held his hand out, inviting his wife to take it. With hesitation, she did, and was once again surprised by how warm and graceful Lucius touch was. She allowed him to guide her downstairs to the foyer where Crouch Jr. awaited. It seems that he was surprised as well that Lucius had allowed his wife to join them.

Narcissa Malfoy sat in the black leather arm chair, while her husband took his seat on the arm of the same chair. That small, whimsical smile never left his face and she couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head. Crouch Jr., however, seemed to only be here for business, and seemed also unware of Lucius's light-hearted mood.

"He's breaking." Said Crouch Jr.

Narcissa blinked. "Who?"

"How long?" Lucius asked, his eyes now meeting hers. It felt unnatural, but she couldn't deny the interest she had in this newfound attention her husband was showing her. It was so unnatural and unnerving, she had forgotten her previous question, making her husband's answer irrelevant.

"A few more days." Crouch Jr. replied. "Snape will have no recollection of what happened over the past week, and then we can move forward."

"Excellent." Lucius said, and this time he did break the eye contact. And as the eye contact broke, Narcissa became aware of her surroundings again. She picked up the pieces where she left off. Not hearing anything else, all she could recall was Snape. _He's breaking._ What did that mean?

She turned to look at Crouch Jr. "What is all this about?" The man narrowed his eyes at her as if she had no right to ask the question. Ready to argue, her temper was cut short as Lucius answered.

"A reckoning. Soon, all of this will be over, my love. Just as you wished." He said sweetly. She noticed that Crouch Jr. did not react to his statement. _What would be over? The lies? The secrets? This feeling of something dreadful coming?_

"And then we will have everything."

* * *

Draco sat at the Greengrass family table. He tried his best to make himself seem comfortable, but he was failing miserably. He didn't truly know what he was doing here—his mother told him he didn't have to go. But ever since Hermione— _don't think about it._ To be honest, this was the only place he could go. He wasn't wanted anywhere else.

"The dinner was lovely, Miss Greengrass." He said politely. He had barely eaten, but he figured he should say something.

Miss Greengrass smiled back, but not in a motherly type of way. It was more of a creepy, worshipping smile. Here was Draco Malfoy, the suitor to her beloved daughter Astoria, having dinner with them. Complimenting her house elves' food. This was truly a glorious moment for her. For her family.

"Why thank you, Mister Malfoy!" She said eagerly. She glanced over at her daughters. Daphne didn't seem as delighted as her mother, probably because her betrothed was not in attendance. _And never would be._ Draco thought.

Astoria however, looked head over heels, and it made the blonde Slytherin want to throw up all his food. He tried to find some good qualities in the girl, but he never could. She wasn't smart, or funny, or even bold. Everything she did, she did it because her mother told her to. Draco was too impatient to have to boss someone around. The girl was nothing like Hermione, hell she wasn't even like the rest of the Slytherin heiresses.

"We were so sad," Miss Greengrass continued, "when we heard you wouldn't be in attendance for our Christmas dinner, but Narcissa told us how you were feeling after the funeral. Astoria sends her condolences."

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Astoria." And though he addressed her, he did his best to not make eye contact. But as much as he tried to fight it, he couldn't help the feeling of her eyes burning through his suit. This was the most attention he had gotten from a girl all winter break, and he hated it.

After dinner, he made his way to the Greengrass's washroom. He stayed in there as long as he could, trying to think of some excuse to tell so he could leave. But before he could even fathom a story, there was a knock on the washroom door.

"Just a minute." The boy called out. He could feel his heart racing. What if it was Miss Greengrass? What if it was Astoria? What would he say to them? _Just say you have to leave. Since when have you been scared to do what you wanted?_ Since….

Draco opened the door, only to find the blonde-haired, blue-eyed betrothed of his ex-best friend Theodore Nott. Draco could not hide the wave of relief that flowed through him as he saw her face. He didn't have to be polite to Daphne, only her sister. And for that, Draco didn't really care for her company.

He frowned. "What?"

"So you've finally gotten your head back." The girl said, crossing her arms.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Draco pushed passed her, making his way down the hall to leave. His attempt to get away from Daphne failed as she skipped up behind him.

She had that sneaky smile on her face when she knew something no one else knew. "You've seem to have gotten rid of your disgusting crush on that mud— _Hermione Granger._ Seeing as you're here to see my sister."

Draco scoffed. "I wouldn't court your sister in a million years, Daphne."

"Then, I don't know who else would fall for your charm, Malfoy. If not Granger, or my sister, I expect you'll be alone for the rest of your life."

"Granger….she'll…she'll come around." The blonde Slytherin tried to will the words out, but he wasn't sure of them himself.

"Hmmmmm….I don't know, Malfoy." Daphne said as she skipped forward, heading towards the family quarters of the Greengrass house. "I think somebody might've beat you to it."

Draco stopped, his mind snapping back to what Daphne was saying. "What are you talking about?" His eyes narrowed. Who else other than him had a crush on Hermione Granger?

The blonde-haired heiress never answered as her mother stepped out of the dining room. Draco tried to look around her, to find where Daphne went, but he had no luck. The gears in his head were going a thousand miles a second. A hundred questions swirled like a whirlpool in his mind. _Did Hermione like someone else? Was that why she didn't take my gift?_ _Why didn't she tell me?_

He felt discouraged. He felt all the hope he had of getting his friends back together fade away. Maybe they had all found new friends. Maybe Draco was too late.

"Is there something wrong, Mister Malfoy?" Miss Greengrass asked. Her face was no longer fixed in the creepy smile she held before. She looked as if she did something wrong.

"No. No ma'am." Draco said quickly. "I would just—I think I'm going to go home now. I just remembered my father needed help with something."

The creepy smiled returned. "Of course! Of course! I wouldn't want to keep you from that. Please tell Narcissa I said hello!"

Draco nodded politely, heading towards the Greengrass's fireplace. As he grabbed the floo powder, preparing to make his exit, his eyes met Daphne's once more. The girl was standing there, with the same sneaky smile, twirling a piece of her blonde hair. It was then Draco took on a new view of the situation. Daphne knew something—something about Hermione—and he was going to find out. No matter what.

* * *

 _Do you know what it's like? To be betrayed by your best friend? A man you trusted. It's funny because he was never big on trust—no man of his kind ever is. But I trusted him, because I owe him a lot. Despite the aftermath of it all, he made me who I was. And for a long time I hated him for that. But what did you always tell me?_

 _'Forget, Severus. And Forgive.'_

 _"….thought we were supposed to be friends?" I can almost hear the words. "Best friends?"_

 _And you'll say. "We are, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging round with! I'm sorry but I detest Malfoy and LeStrange! Malfoy especially! What do you see in him, Sev, he acts like he's your father! Always telling you what to do…"_

 _"He's just looking out for me, Lily." And I'll make the excuse._

 _"And LeStrange?! Don't get me started on him—D'you know what he tried to do to Mary Macdonald the other day?"_

 _I remembered. But still. "That was nothing. It was a laugh, that's all—Mary had too much to drink that night."_

 _"And so did LeStrange." You'll snap back. "And it wasn't a laugh. It was Dark Magic…"_

 _"But it's fine. Mary's fine." I'll say. "Forget and forgive, right?"_

 _And as we continue to argue, I continue to make excuses and defend the ones who drove you away from me. Who drove you into choosing James Potter over me. Which resulted in you having your first child. A son. A son whose mere birth caused a threat to one of the most dangerous wizards in the world. Which led you to your death. Because I defended them all._

 _"Is this remorse, Severus?" He would ask me. He would ask me this as we stand in your crumbled home. As I try to imagine the life you had here—I imagine your smile somewhere in the kitchen. I think that was the kitchen._

 _"I wish…I wish I were dead…" I would say, but I could barely hear myself talk. All I could hear were my mistakes. Each one piling on top of each other._

 _Then he would say, staring into the rubble himself. "There is no use on dwelling on your past now. We must accept our mistakes, and hope for a better future. You must forgive, Severus."_

 _Forgive. That was the word._

 _So, I forgave him. I forgave them all. For dragging me into this mess, for making my life a living hell. For taking you away from me. I forgave them all. But even then, it isn't enough. It's never been enough. And now here I am, lying in a dungeon…waiting to die._

 _Because my best friend betrayed me. And I forgave him._

 **Author's Note: I've been gone way too long. Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~ TheeStoryTeller**


	56. POA18: What's Next

When we were young the future was so bright  
The old neighborhood was so alive  
And every kid on the whole damn street  
Was gonna make it big and not be beat

Now the neighborhood's cracked and torn  
The kids are grown up but their lives are worn  
How can one little street  
Swallow so many lives

~ The Kids Aren't Alright x The Offspring

Chapter 56: What's Next

It was the last day of the Christmas holiday before the students were to return to Hogwarts, and Tobias spent his night packing his trunk. Theodore went home to collect his things and to visit his mother. Tobias assumed Draco was doing the same, but shook his head in annoyance as he didn't want to think about his ex-bestfriend. But he couldn't help the nagging that Theodore's words had imbedded into his brain. He couldn't stop thinking about the reason he was mad at Draco in the first place—and he couldn't stop thinking about the man who was responsible. The same man who was after him—Sirius Black.

He closed his trunk with a slam, plopping down on his bed. His mind was racing with so many things. Sirius Black. His father. His grandfather's legacy. His friends. Pansy. Deep down inside, he just wanted everything to go back how they used to be. Before everything fell apart.

There was a knock at the door, and Tobias found Bartemius Crouch Jr. standing in his doorway. He was no longer wearing the black robes he wore when they spoke the first time. This time, he wore black trousers and a black cotton T-shirt. In his eyes, Tobias thought he found a new sense of purpose in the man—something was troubling him. But Tobias did not care to ask what. He was having his own troubles.

"Your mother wanted me to ask you if you needed help packing." He said.

Tobias scoffed. "Of course she did."

The Slytherin heir expected Crouch Jr. to lash out at him, but the scowl did not come. Instead the man stepped inside, taking a seat on top of Tobias's trunk. With a flick of his wrist, the door closed—the two were now alone.

"What was she like?" Tobias asked. "Before Azkaban?"

Crouch stared at the boy long and hard. Where could he begin? How to describe Bellatrix LeStrange to make her seem like a fit mother? To spark something in the boy that would make him proud to be her son. Nothing about Bellatrix LeStrange was pleasant—she had barely tried to make herself seem so since she'd been here. Every day she acted less and less like the boy's mother and more like his babysitter. Crouch Jr. ironically felt pity for the boy, though he had killed his own mother.

"She was like this," The man said truthfully, but the lie awaited. "but much worse. Your father thought she would settle when she had you. And for a time, we all did. Until Rodolphus was murdered."

Tobias swallowed, feeling the rush of anger pumping in his veins. Another thing that Sirius Black caused. His mother's chance at a normal life. Tobias's chance to have a real family—a mother and a father.

"Azkaban changes people," Crouch Jr. continued. "They make us into people we never thought we could become. But it's so easy to—when you don't have to look at yourself in the mirror each day."

"Your mother is trying, Tobias, the best she can to be the mother she never got to be. She's missed thirteen years of your life. You cannot fault her for not being as loving and caring as her sister. No one has cared for her in years."

Tobias took in Crouch's words. He had never thought of the situation from her perspective. He had never thought about how she may be feeling. The Slytherin boy now felt guilty as he had expected her to just come home and return to normal. But Tobias was now realizing, that his wishes were just as far away as Azkaban.

So that night, Tobias walked in her room for the first time that Christmas holiday, and he felt an unnatural feeling wash over him. He felt uncomfortable—he felt a dangerous force radiating off the walls. Yet he stepped as a son, walking casually inside his mother's room. But this feeling he had inside, was all but that.

The Slytherin boy figured he would talk to her, before he had to return to Hogwarts tomorrow. He wanted to tell her what he had found out, and what he and Theo were planning to do. But most importantly, he wanted to know what having a mother felt like before he had to leave. Something to hold on to for the next couple of months—he had no idea what was waiting for him back at Hogwarts.

She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing out the window. It was a beautiful sight, the starry night sky and the soft white snow falling gracefully down onto the ground. It was the most peaceful thing Tobias had seen this holiday, and he assumed it was the most peaceful thing his mother had seen in twelve years. So he didn't disturb her—the Slytherin boy only sat next to his mother, focusing his view on the sight as well.

"Do you know who killed him?" Tobias asked. "Do you know who killed my father?"

Bellatrix said nothing.

Tobias continued. "It was Sirius Black—he betrayed father and murdered him."

At these words, he saw his mother slam her eyes shut. Tobias knew it was hard for her to hear it—because it was just as hard for him to tell her. All these years he had been lied to—all those years she had been trapped in Azkaban, not knowing what would happen to her son or what had really happened to her husband.

"I'm going to kill him, mother. I'm going to kill Sirius Black—my father shall be avenged."

Bellatrix turned towards him. Tobias expected to see anger or disgust in her face, except he saw an unguided excitement spark in her. He couldn't decipher her emotions. He didn't have time to.

"I am not asking for your permission. Black took our chance to be a real family away from us, and I will return that favor. I only ask for your guidance—a chance to be the son you need me to be."

There was a silence between them, but that spark never faded in Bellatrix's eyes. It seemed to grow brighter. And as the spark glowed brighter, so did the smile that grew on her face. Tobias wished to know what she was thinking. He hoped that by doing this, that awkward feeling would fade between the two of them. That they could be the mother and son they were destined to be.

"Then kill him, and do not hold back." She whispered softly, but there was a hidden eagerness in her voice. "And then we can be a family."

In a swift, loving movement, she ran her hand through Tobias's curly black hair. Their magic repelled each other once more, but Tobias fought through it. He focused on his mother's words—on Black's soon-to-be last moments—and the moment where he would truly have his family back.

"My beautiful baby boy."

Unbeknownst to them, Crouch Jr. stood at Bellatrix's doorway. He felt something twist in his stomach as he heard the witch's words. He knew this tone all too well, but he didn't want to assume. There was no doubt of how strong Bellatrix LeStrange believed in Voldemort's cause, as well as her infatuation for him. With this being known, Crouch knew that there was no limit in how far Bellatrix would go for the Dark Lord. Even if it meant playing mother to a son she never had.

But something inside of him heard those words differently than a mother comforting her son. A part of him felt that Bellatrix may be manipulating the boy. What family could they be if Tobias murdered Sirius Black? The Dark Lord himself didn't even want the boy going after Black. Whatever Bellatrix was planning, Crouch knew he had to be ten steps ahead of her. Ten steps ahead meaning he needed Snape to see the rest of the memories before the students returned to Hogwarts tomorrow.

* * *

After their second test flight with Tobias's Firebolt, Ron and Tracey decided to have lunch in the Great Hall. Ron had been avoiding the great chamber since the holidays started, as well as everyone else in the castle. But Tracey had persuaded the boy to go inside today, and Ron was extremely nervous.

"Seriously?" She laughed. "You're scared to go in the Great Hall? There's barely anyone in there!"

Ron went red. "That's not the point. What if…what if Tobias is back and he knows we've been riding his broom?"

"How would LeStrange possibly know we've been riding his broom?"

The Gryffindor could not answer, which brought the Slytherin girl delight. She grabbed his hand, leading him towards the Great Hall.

"I get it," She said. "You're scared to see your old friends, but you have a new friend now. Come on."

Ron didn't protest as Tracey dragged him down to the Great Hall. In all honesty, he was surprised at how he wasn't protesting this. Had this been Hermione or even Pansy Parkinson, Ron wouldn't have stopped complaining until he'd gotten his way. Yet, there was something about Tracey that made him want to try things differently. And she wasn't bossy about it or prim—she was welcoming.

The two made their way down to the Great Hall, which was still almost completely empty—even though students would be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow. All the house tables were pushed against the wall except one—which sat in the middle of the room and hosted twelve chairs. Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick were already seated, as well as Filch, who was pouring a glass of milk into a bowl for Mrs. Norris.

"Greetings Mr. Weasley and Ms. Davis!" Dumbledore shouted as the two students walked towards the table. "Please take a seat."

Ron and Tracey did as they were told, taking a seat down at the end of the table. With a snap of his fingers, the once bare table was now filled with several plates of food. Ron helped himself to everything his fork could reach. He had completely forgotten about his fear of being in the Great Hall. Tracey noticed this, shaking her head amusingly as she helped herself to some roasted potatoes.

But as she did so, the doors to the great chamber opened once more. Professor Trelawney awkwardly glided into the room. She donned a green sequined dress, Tracey assumed it was to compliment the holiday season, but Ron thought she looked like an overgrown dragonfly.

The old headmaster stood up, his face as bright as ever. "Sibyll, this is a surprise!"

"I do beg you to forgive my lateness, headmaster," Trelawney said, her voice misty and airy. "I was crystal gazing, and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. So at once, I hastened from my tower. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate?"

"Well, we are glad that you didn't," Dumbledore responded. "Let me draw you up a chair—"

The old wizard drew his wand, levitating a chair from one of the abandoned tables and setting it down between Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. Ron had to hold in his laughter as he saw McGonagall's face turn into one of complete distaste. However, Trelawney did not take her seat. Instead, he eyes grew wider than they already were—darting to and fro across the table, as if something was wrong.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

Tracey snorted while Ron let out a slight whimper. Like the rest of the professors, McGonagall was unimpressed, being the next to speak.

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," She said quickly. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."

Trelawney was hesitant at first, but she finally gave in. She took her seat in the empty chair between McGonagall and Sprout. Ron and Tracey watched as the professor scanned the table thoroughly—not even bothering to put any food on her plate. Ron could see her arms trembling and her eyes looked as if she fallen into a trance.

"Where is Professor Lupin?" she asked suddenly, as if someone had forced her to ask.

Dumbledore didn't seem to notice. "I'm afraid Professor Lupin has fallen ill again. However, he will be back once the term begins."

"I'm surprised you weren't aware of this, Sibyll." Professor McGonagall said primly.

Trelawney frowned, narrowing her eyes at the witch. "Of course, I already knew, Minerva, but one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. It is not uncommon for one to act as though they are not possessed by the Inner Eye. It makes those around us more comfortable."

"If by comfortable you mean unbothered…that explains a great deal."

"If you must know, Minerva," the other witch shot back. "I have already foreseen that Professor Lupin's time here at Hogwarts is short. He also seems aware himself that he will not be with us for very long. But he is afraid to admit it, he fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him."

Professor McGonagall was unimpressed. "Imagine that."

Not wanting to see this conversation go any further, Dumbledore spoke next. "I doubt that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger."

"I have seen differently, Headmaster," Professor Trelawney said. "Have you heard from Professor Snape?"

As if someone pressed the mute button on the world, the table went silent. Now that he thought about it, Ron realized that he hadn't seen Professor Snape all holiday—not that he was expecting to see the horrid Potion's Master, but Snape never left the castle for the holidays. He remembered Tobias and Theodore telling him that.

"I heard he went away for the holidays." Tracey said, causing all of the professors to look down at the end of the table where she and Ron sat.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "I believe I remember Professor Snape saying he was going on vacation for the holiday, though I don't remember where. I'm sure there's no need to worry."

Professor Trelawney looked as if she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. The rest of the dinner proceeded as any other dinner. Things became hectic, however, when Trelawney threw a fit when Ron and Tracey left the dinner table at the same time—going on about the "last to sit is the first to die" debacle. If it wasn't for Professor McGonagall, Ron would have been freaking out by now.

As they walked down the corridor, Ron couldn't help but think about one of the conversations at dinner. Professor Snape. Professor Trelawney made it seem like Snape was missing, and from the looks of the rest of the professors, nobody knew where he was. It seemed far-fetched that Snape would have randomly went on vacation for the holidays and not tell Dumbledore where he was going. Especially if the wizard never left the castle. And how did Tracey know where Snape was? Snape never told anyone—not even Tobias—anything.

"Wait!" Ron said, causing the Slytherin girl to stop in her tracks.

Tracey turned around. "What's wrong now, Weasley?"

"How did you know Snape was away for the holidays?" The boy asked. "From what I've heard Snape never leaves the castle—and I know for a fact that he definitely doesn't tell students where he's going before he tells Dumbledore."

At this, Tracey went silent. She turned back around, her back facing the red-haired Gryffindor.

"Well, he told me." She shot back. "Now come on."

Ron didn't move. "I've hung around Slytherins long enough to know when they're lying to me. It's part of the reason we aren't friends anymore."

The brown skinned girl faced Ron once more, and the boy could tell something was bothering her. Tracey knew she wouldn't be able to lie her way out of this one—well she would—but it would cost her a friend. And even though they've only been hanging out a few days, she found out that she had a lot in common with Ron.

"Fine." She sighed, "I lied."

"Why?" This time Ron stepped closer.

The girl shook her head. "Not here." Tracey quickly grabbed his hand, dragging Ron back to the astronomy tower. She locked the door behind them and barred a chair under the doorknob for good measure. Once the Slytherin girl knew they were alone, she told Ron the truth.

"No one has seen Snape since the holidays started." She said. "We-and by 'we' I mean the Slytherins—we all thought that he had gone to do something for You-Know-Who. But then a few days ago, I received a letter from my father saying that You-Know-Who was dead. I haven't heard from him since and Snape hasn't returned to Hogwarts since he left."

Ron swallowed hard, taking in all the information that Tracey had given him. "So, Snape's missing? And You-Know-Who's dead?"

Tracey nodded in response. Ron had nothing to say. There were so many questions running through his head right now, but at the center of it, was Tobias. He knew he shouldn't have been thinking about his ex-bestfriend, but he couldn't help it. He remembered how Tobias felt during their first year, when he thought that his grandfather was going to die. Ron couldn't imagine how the Slytherin boy felt now. And what would happen to him? And Theodore and Draco? Would they now have to take their place as heirs? Would they have to leave Hogwarts?

He also thought about Snape. Snape had saved Ron's life more than once in these past years. For Snape to go missing, it made the Gryffindor worry. And what about Tracey's father? If Snape was missing, maybe her father was missing as well.

His heart sank as he saw tears forming in Tracey's eyes. He had never seen the girl cry—well, he had never seen a Slytherin girl cry period. But he noticed it looked the same as anybody else. It made him realize that no matter how tough they looked, the Slytherins were just like everyone else.

"Yet." He said brightly, causing the girl to look at him with a face of confusion.

"He hasn't returned _yet_." Ron continued. "There's still one more day before school starts. If Snape returns tomorrow, that means that your dad is okay. And if you like, we can go ask him ourselves."

Tracey sniffed. "You would do that for me?"

"What are friends for?" Ron said, smiling. Catching him off guard, Tracey hugged him. Though a surprised, Ron didn't feel any different. He didn't feel any differently when he returned her hug, comforting her as if she was his sister, or even Hermione.

* * *

"NO! NO!" He screamed as his captors approached him. He knew he could not fight back, but his will and his pride would not let him give up. He sat in the corner of his prison cell, praying to Salazar that something—or someone—would help him out of this situation.

"Severus," Goyle said frantically, trying to calm him down. "Severus, I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. Crouch and I— we want to help you."

The prisoner shook his head erratically, trying to cover his ears. But there was a force preventing him from moving. It made his body tremble even more as he felt it—realizing who it was.

"Just kill me...KILL ME!" Snape screamed.

"We don't want to kill you, Severus." The voice of Bartemius Crouch Jr. filled the cell. "You have already seen who wants to kill you. Well, destroy you, that is."

"I may be weak, but I am not naïve, Crouch. I haven't forgotten that you are skilled in Legilimency."

The wizard smirked. "I had a great teacher. And because of that, I was able to teach Marcus. Which is why you have been able to access certain parts of his mind."

The prisoner was silent, still unconvinced that Crouch Jr. and Goyle were actually trying to help him. They had kept him prisoner in the LeStrange Dungeons the whole Christmas holiday—help was the last word he was expecting to hear.

"I never tampered with Goyle's mind, Severus." The wizard rolled down the collar of his black turtle neck, revealing a purplish-black bruise on his neck. It's shape? A large hand. Snape realized that it was the bruise from when Lucius choked Crouch Jr.

"Everything that you have seen is true." Crouch Jr. continued. "Lucius has been manipulating things since Voldemort's death."

Snape looked between the two men. "And the memories?"

"Lucius wanted to keep you out of the loop." Goyle spoke next. "He knew that if you took your place as the Heir of the Dark Lord, he wouldn't be able to control things how he wanted. He would be right back where he started. As the Dark Lord's pet."

"So, he offered me to be the next Heir to the Dark Lord." Said Crouch.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "And you took it with no hesitation."

"It was either me or someone else who would actually comply with Lucius's plan, though I wasn't aware of it at the beginning. Had I denied, he might have proposed to kill you or worse. It was my doing that you are alive."

"Tortured…but alive." Snape retorted. "And the massacre at Azkaban? Bellatrix's Escape?"

"Orders from the Dark Lord, Severus, you know I couldn't deny them." Crouch Jr. said simply. "But if you are asking me did I want to murder my previous comrades, my answer is no. Had I refused, Bellatrix would have told Lucius and we wouldn't be here."

The prisoner sighed, understanding the tough choices Crouch had to make. He too had been on the other side of an inhumane mission given by the Dark Lord. "And my imprisonment?"

"I needed you to myself, for obvious reasons. We also needed to ensure Lucius that his 'deed' would be done."

"He came down here a few times." Said Goyle. "But you were unconscious. We couldn't have you telling Lucius what you saw without you actually understanding what you were seeing."

 _A well thought out plan, but painful nonetheless._ Snape thought. "So now what?"

The two men looked at each other. Goyle's face was one of uneasiness, but Crouch Jr. seemed certain about the next part of his plan. Snape had a feeling that this next part would involve him—and that this year was about to become more complicated than it already had.

"We need you to alert Dumbledore and the rest of the Order." Goyle said. "Lucius is unfit to rule Voldemort's throne, but with the Dark Lord gone and all of his true followers murdered, loyalties are in flux."

"Everyone is making the choice to stay alive." Said Crouch Jr. "Which means siding with Lucius."

"So because you can't—or won't—oppose Lucius yourself," said Snape, slowly rising to his feet. "You want to Order to go after him."

Crouch Jr. slipped his hands in his pockets. "The Order was the obvious choice. They opposed Voldemort, and if Lucius is now the head, they will oppose him. However, my concerns are not with the Order, but with Tobias."

"What happened to Tobias?" Snape asked, his heart hammering.

"Nothing yet. The Dark Lord ordered me to train him as his final request- to prepare him for his throne. I think it's already understood that when the time comes, Lucius will try to challenge him, if he isn't planning it already."

"The Order has already made it known that they will do anything to protect the boy." Goyle said. "And now, so will we. We know how much he means to you, Severus."

Snape nodded, not knowing what to say. He didn't know much about Crouch Jr. and Goyle—but he found them to be more sincere companions than Lucius had ever been. Though they didn't pick the best way to do it, they were helping Snape. Helping Snape to finally see who Lucius Malfoy truly was, and helping him see why he had chosen to put himself in this position in the first place.

"How many memories do I have left?" He directed his question to Goyle.

"Only one." Goyle responded. "Then you will return to Hogwarts tomorrow, Crouch has already handled the arrangement with Lucius. Once you return, you will take it from there."

"Then, let us begin."

* * *

The ride back to Hogwarts was worse than the ride form Hogwarts. Tobias and Hermione sat in a compartment together. However, Neville was nowhere to be found—and neither was Draco. Not that the duo was expecting the blond Slytherin to show up, but after their talk at Hermione's house, they had been hoping that Draco would pass their way.

"Can't find him anywhere." Theodore said when he returned to the compartment. He had a handful—and mouthful—of candy in his arms. He plopped back in his seat, dispersing the goods between him and Tobias. "You want some, Hermione?"

But the Gryffindor witch didn't answer. She sat on her side of the compartment, her eyes narrowed fiercely at the two Slytherin boys.

"No, I do _not_ want any candy." She snapped. "Especially when we don't know where Neville is."

"Longbottom's _fine._ " Theo responded.

The girl huffed. "Did you see him get on the train?"

"Do I ever see anyone get on the train?"

Tobias chuckled. "I'm sure Neville got on the train, Hermione. He probably just got stuck in the bathroom again."

" _See?_ " said Theo through a mouthful of Chocolate Frog. "He's fine. We can just have Hagrid get him out again."

Despite Theodore's words, this did not convince Hermione that Neville was fine. It was true that the boy had gotten stuck in the Hogwarts Express bathroom before, but this felt different. They were halfway to Hogwarts and no one had stopped by their compartment to tell them where Neville was. As Tobias and Theodore continued to eat their candy, Hermione's worries grew worse. They had been so used to Neville being a klutz that it was easy to ignore the fact that he might be in real danger.

"I'm going to look for Neville." She said primly, setting her book aside and leaving the compartment. She didn't wait to hear Theo's next response, but she was sure it wouldn't help her in her search for her friend.

She walked down the aisle, passing glances into each compartment. But she couldn't find Neville anywhere—and even though she didn't want to admit it—she couldn't find Draco either. She made her way towards the train bathroom, just in case Tobias and Theodore were right. _It wouldn't hurt to look._ She thought.

But when Hermione opened the door, the stall was empty.

"Oh, Neville…" she said under her breath.

"Looking for someone?"

Recognizing that voice, she quickly turned around. Her cheeks flushed furiously as her eyes locked with the tan Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. He was wearing his usual black prep-boyish suit, looking at her with a mix of admiration and curiosity.

"Umm…yes.." Hermione said calmly, though her heart was hammering in her chest. "You haven't seen Neville, have you?"

Blaise frowned. "Longbottom?" He looked over her shoulder at the unoccupied bathroom stall. "He's not in there?"

"No!" Hermione gasped, flabbergasted that everyone thought that Neville was trapped in the bathroom. "I've searched the whole train."

"Did you check the Slytherin section?"

The Gryffindor witch gave him a confused look. "Why would Neville be in the Slytherin section?"

"I assume you can ask him when you find him." Said the tan Slytherin. "Searching the whole train means searching the _whole_ train, Granger. Even the Slytherin section."

Hermione sighed. Blaise was right. She was hoping that she wouldn't have to check in the Slytherin section of the train. She had been trying to avoid the Slytherins ever since school started—even more now that her friendship with Draco went south. Especially since her new Slytherin of interest was her used to be worse enemy.

"Come on." The Slytherin said casually. "I'll help you look. "

She was hesitant at first, but decided to go with Blaise to the Slytherin section. Her heart was racing a max speed now—her mind running a mile a minute. A part of her was excited to see Blaise, though she knew she was wrong for feeling that way. Another part felt guilty, for deny Draco's gift and apology and then walking the Hogwarts Express with his nemesis. Another part was worried for Neville, and confused as to why—if they found him—Neville was sitting in the Slytherin section. But she pushed all those thoughts back, following the prim school boy all the way to the other side of the train.

* * *

Draco had expected to spend his ride back to Hogwarts alone, but it was nice to have someone to finally talk to—even if they were the last people he expected.

"So Sirius Black killed Tobias's dad?" Ginny asked. "And you knew the whole time and didn't tell him?"

Draco nodded. "You think I was wrong for what I did?"

The red-haired Weasley shrugged. "I don't know. On one side, you could've told him and Tobias probably would've went after Black himself. So I guess the real question is—would you rather have him dead, or alive and not your friend?"

The blonde-haired Slytherin sighed hopelessly. He didn't know why he was still thinking about it—the damage was already done. Nothing could change it. But the Weasley girl had made a point—Tobias was alive, even if he was upset.

"He got what he deserved." Neville said. The compartment went dead silent. Draco noticed the anger in the boy's voice—it was unrecognizable, but it was Neville.

"You keep secrets…and secrets get kept from you." He continued. He was looking out the window. They were halfway to Hogwarts and Neville hadn't said a word until now.

"Something wrong, Neville?" Draco asked, testing the waters.

"Yeah, there is." The boy responded, his voice still filled with anger, but quivering. Draco suspected Neville had never spoken out like this before—something was troubling him deeply.

"Tobias is so worried about how Sirius Black killed his father, and how his mother's been in Azkaban, and how he's never had a real family…but neither have I! Because of him!"

Ginny at Neville, and then at Draco. "What is he talking about?"

Draco wasn't listening, he knew exactly what Neville was talking about. And now he understood why the boy was so upset. But the kicker was, Tobias didn't know—another secret everyone had kept from him.

"Neville..." He said carefully.

"Did you know his mother is the reason my parents are in St. Mungos?!" He roared. Draco was expecting Neville to lose his temper, so he made the proper preparations by casting a silencing charm on the train compartment.

" _What?"_ Ginny gasped.

"Yeah!" Neville went on, his voice growing louder. "His mother tortured my parents until they went insane! My Gram told me everything!"

Draco closed his eyes. "Neville, I know you're angry but…"

"I finally know how you feel Draco! Tobias always acts like he's the victim when he has his own secrets! He had everyone worried about him and his damned father—"

"LONGBOTTOM!" The blonde Slytherin roared.

He imagined his face was a deep red, somewhat close to Ron's. But he couldn't take it any longer. Neville was upset at the wrong person, and though it was true, Draco wasn't going to let him slander his cousin like that.

"Tobias doesn't know about your parents' history with his mother." He said once he finally calmed down.

Neville scoffed. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to." The blonde Slytherin shot back. "You were never really my friend to begin with anyway. You were Tobias's. He was the one who came into your compartment on the first day of school, not me. All this time he's stuck by you, defended you—through thick and thin. He wouldn't have kept something like that from you, Neville. You have to believe that."

Neville didn't have anything else to say, but the anger stilled boiled in his stomach. Except instead of embracing that anger, he felt a bit silly. Tobias was one of his bestfriends. He knew from the moment they met that he wasn't like other Slytherins. Of course, the boy would have told him the truth if he knew. That was Tobias.

"I know." Neville said softly, tears forming in his eyes. "It's just…with everything going on…"

Draco nodded. "You were angry that no one had told you."

The Gryffindor boy nodded, trying to hold in his tears as Ginny consoled him. Draco understood this because he understood how Tobias felt when he found out about his father. It wasn't the fact that Draco had hidden the truth, it was the fact that no one felt like he deserved to know the truth. That was his father. And these were Neville's parents.

"It's just weird for us, you know," said Neville. "Being friends with you—all I hear from my Gram is 'they'll betray you' and 'all Slytherins are the same.' When we all split up, and Tobias went all berserk on us—I thought—I thought that she might've been right."

Draco leaned forward, gripping the boy's arm. "Tobias would've told you the truth Neville, I promise you. He isn't like the rest of us."

"It's surprising that you're defending him, Malfoy." Ginny said, "Seeing as you aren't friends anymore."

The blonde Slytherin shrugged. "He may not be my friend, but he's still my family. I wouldn't want him to end up where I am. Especially not at the hands of Longbottom."

The trio laughed, and Draco was happy to see that Neville's mood had lightened up a bit. Only Salazar knew what the Gryffindor boy had up his sleeve once they returned to Hogwarts. Deep down, Draco knew he had to tell Tobias the truth about his mother, but he knew he couldn't allow Neville to do it in his rampage.

The red-haired Weasley crossed her arms. "So are you going to keep this from him too?"

"No." Draco said sincerely. "I'm going to tell him."

Neville laughed again, rubbing his injured spot from the fight in the Slytherin common room. "Good luck with that."

Draco laughed, finally feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. But the moment was short lived as someone else appeared in the doorway of their compartment.

"Neville!" Hermione gasped in relief. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

Draco felt his heart sink even deeper. Hermione was in his compartment. And if she was here, did that mean that Tobias and Theodore were here, too? He hadn't seen them since Tobias's grandfather's funeral. What would he say? What would he do? Would he have to prepare himself for another fight? Or would they even acknowledge him? He quickly reached in his pocket, feeling around for the charm bracelet he had gotten Hermione for Christmas.

"Ah, I see you've found him." Another voice said, and the blonde-Slytherin felt a fire ignite in his stomach. He knew that voice, and he hated it as much as he hated the person who it belonged to. "Now you can ask him what he is doing in the Slytherin section, Hermione."

" _Blaise?_ " Ginny's mouth dropped as the tan Slytherin came into view. "Wha—what are you doing here?"

Blaise smiled casually at her. "Oh, I was just helping Hermione look for Longbottom."

Draco balled his fist. "Well you've found him. Now you can leave, Zabini." He then looked at his brown-bushy haired crush. "Granger, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"I wish I could, Draco," Hermione answered, "but the train should be arriving in Hogsmeade any minute now, I have to go and get my things. We'll talk when we get to Hogwarts, yeah?"

"Sure." The Slytherin responded. "That's fine."

Hermione nodded, leaving the compartment with Zabini trailing behind her. The fire that had ignited in Draco grew rapidly and now danced like wild flames through his veins.

"Since when have Hermione and Zabini been on a first name basis?" asked Ginny. Though he was angry, Draco could since the hint of jealously in her voice. The boy couldn't deny that it was also jealously that was burning inside of him. From the moment Blaise entered the compartment, the blonde Slytherin heard Daphne's words echoing in his head.

 _I think somebody might've beat you to it._

Neville gulped. "This isn't going to be good, is it?"

* * *

When Tobias and Theodore entered the Slytherin common room, all eyes fell on Tobias. It wasn't a surprise that everyone had found out about the fight between him and Draco before the Christmas holiday. It definitely wasn't a surprise since everyone felt the common room shake with thunder when Tobias's magic went haywire. The boys were met with eyes of different emotion—fear, disgust, and an unorthodox interest.

"What?" Theodore called out. "Is there a problem?! I can catch a good round before dinner."

The common room remained silent, though there were a few sounds of knuckles cracking in the background. However, no one stepped forward to face Tobias and Theodore. The brown-haired Slytherin smirked.

"Thought so. Come on, Tobias."

The two boys made their way through the crowd and up the stairs to their dormitory. They noticed that Draco had already unpacked his things, however, the boy was nowhere to be found. But Tobias barely noticed as something else caught his attention.

"What are you two doing in here?" Theodore said, rolling up his sleeves.

Tracey rolled her eyes. "Put a sock in it, Nott. We only came to make sure Tobias got his Christmas present."

Tracey and Ron had just finished putting Tobias's Christmas present back on his bed. Ron was hoping that they would be gone before Tobias and Theo got back, but it seems like they were too late.

"Christmas present?" Tobias asked, his curiosity growing as he eyed the large parcel on his bed. "From who?"

"Didn't say." Ron shrugged. "But I wanted to make sure you got it. Tracey caught Crabbe and Goyle messing with it."

"Well now it's safe." Theo said quickly. "So you guys can go."

But before anybody could move, the door opened again, revealing the next occupants of the room.

"Draco, I…" Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as the eyes of Tobias, Theodore, Tracey, and Ron fell upon her. Her face went a furious red, not expecting the crowd.

Draco stepped in next, his face turning an equal shade of red. He was hoping that Tobias and Theodore would be in the Great Hall for dinner by now, meaning that he would have time to finally talk to Hermione.

"I didn't know you all were having a party." Draco said.

"It isn't a party." Said Theodore. "Tobias is just opening his last Christmas gift and Tracey and Ron were just leaving."

Hermione raised a brow. "Christmas gift from _who_?"

"Dunno." Tobias answered, holding the parcel in his hand. He immediately ripped his gift open, not waiting for anyone or anything else to interrupt him. Everyone gasped as the gleaming black Firebolt rolled onto Tobias's bed.

"Holy shit." Theo gasped.

"I…I don't believe it." Tobias said hoarsely. His eyes couldn't tear away from the black shiny broomstick that laid on his bed. It looked exactly like the one he had saw in Diagon Alley at the beginning of the school year. He couldn't believe that someone had actually gotten him one for Christmas.

"It's a Firebolt." Said Draco, his eyes also glued to the magnificent broom. "And it doesn't say who it's from?"

"Nope." Responded Ron, though he felt a bit awkward talking to Draco. "Though I think it's from Professor Lupin."

Theodore laughed in disbelief. "No, no. No way Lupin could've afforded this. If anything, he would have bought himself some new robes first. Anyway, he wasn't even around when Tobias's Nimbus got smashed. There's no way Lupin could have known to get Tobias another broom."

"I thought he was sick?" asked Tracey.

"I mean, I guess…" Theodore went on. "But rumor is no one saw him in the Hospital Wing. So, unless they have a new wing for sick teachers, I don't know what to tell you."

Hermione hadn't said anything, but something tightened in her stomach. Something didn't feel right about Tobias's new gift. Who would have gone through the trouble of buying something expensive as a Firebolt, and not have it delivered to LeStrange Manor? She bit her lip, trying to keep her feelings at bay as everyone admired the broom.

"Something doesn't feel right." Draco said, echoing her thoughts. She nodded, finally deciding to pick at everyone's interest.

"This is a bit odd, isn't it?" She said, causing everyone to look at her. "It's obvious that the Firebolt is quite expensive, but why would someone go through the trouble of buying Tobias one and not bothering to tell him they'd sent it?"

"Who cares?" Theodore said eagerly. "This is the best broom in all of Britain! You'll definitely be in good hands now Tobias, wait until Gryffindor sees this. Come on, let's take it for a test drive."

" _NO!_ " Hermione cried, not realizing the volume and tone of her voice. "I..I…um…I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet."

"Really, Granger?" Tracey said. "What's LeStrange supposed to do with it? Sweep the floor?"

Theodore picked it up, stroking the sleek bristles on the broom. "What's the worst thing that can happen?"

Hermione didn't answer, but she had an idea of the worst thing that could happen. If no one else was concerned about it, she would be. She wouldn't let Tobias get hurt again—she couldn't sit back and watch as something horrible unfolded once more.

She turned and walked out of Slytherin dormitory. She was almost to the door when someone grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"You know just as much as I do that something isn't right about that broom." Draco said, his face stern and worried. "But stay out of it."

"I was serious when I said I wasn't listening to your ideas again." The witch responded, snatching her arm out of his grip.

"I'm serious, Hermione." Draco continued. "I know what you're about to do. And I agree, but I really think you should stay out of it.

"Staying out of it is what got us in this position, Draco. I'm not going to sit around and allow my friend to get hurt again. And if you felt the same, you wouldn't be trying to stop me."

At these words, Draco had nothing to respond with. He knew what would happen next, and he had to decide whether or not he wanted to be involved. But Hermione was about to tell one of the professors about Tobias's broom and its anonymous giver—and that would only end one way. And it wouldn't end with Tobias keeping the fastest broomstick in the world.

He was going to have to tell him. He was going to have to tell Tobias was Hermione was planning to do.

* * *

"But if you didn't call the meeting," Tonks asked Mad-Eye. "Then who did?"

The members of the Order of the Phoenix sat around the Black family table, each confused as the person next to them. Each member had received a message stating that their presence was needed at 12 Grimmauld place. No one knew who the message was from, so they assumed it came from one of their fellow Order members, but no one seemed to be responsible for the sudden meeting.

"Alright, wands out," Mad-Eye said, placing himself in a defensive positon. "Somebody has compromised us…"

The stood with their backs toward the table, each of their wands pointed towards the entrances and exits of the house. Someone had found out about their secret meeting location—and that meant that they were in trouble. They didn't know what to expect, but they knew they wouldn't give up without a fight.

Everyone gripped their wands tighter when a _crack_ was heard outside of the house, followed by the sound of a door closing.

"Brace yourselves." Mad-Eye grunted.

The kitchen door open, and the first curse was thrown, barely missing the next guest in the House of Black. Severus Snape.

"Honestly," He drawled. "have you all lost your minds?"

Snape stepped inside, limping slowly inside of the Black kitchen, his weight being supported by a wooden cane. Everyone noticed he looked terrible—his hair had grown to longer lengths and there was stubble where a beard was trying to grow.

Arthur Weasley's mouth gaped open. "Severus…you're alive…we thought…we thought you were dead.

"Not dead yet, Arthur." He said, taking a seat in his usual spot. "Not dead yet."

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	57. POA19: One Step Forward, Ten Steps Back

What Have I Become

My Sweetest Friend

Everyone I Know Goes Away

In the End

And You Could Have It All

My Empire Of Dirt

I Will Let You Down

I Will Make Your Hurt

~ Hurt x Johnny Cash

Chapter 57: One Step Forward, Ten Steps Back

The House of Black was silent once after Snape explained what happened during his imprisonment at LeStrange Manor. Snape watched each reaction as the members of the Order took in his story. He noticed that something was bothering Kingsley as he continued—the man was tensing by the minute, his knuckles growing white with rage as he squeezed his hand into a fist. Mad-Eye seemed unbothered, but Snape knew he was trying to put the pieces together—and adding new pieces where some wouldn't fit. Tonks seemed worried, and the Weasley's looked as if they were hearing a ghost story.

The wizard had hoped that Dumbledore would walk in sometime soon, but his hopes were let down when he approached the end of his story and the same occupants of the house were still there.

"I knew it." Kingsley growled, shaking his head. "I knew Lucius was up to something. But I didn't think…I didn't think this."

Mad-Eye snickered. "That makes two of us. Didn't think Malfoy had the balls."

"This is serious, Alastor!" Kingsley snapped back.

"Are you sure you can trust Crouch Jr.?" Tonks asked Snape. "He was originally a part of Lucius's plan."

"I checked his mind." Responded Snape. "Any allegiance he had to Lucius is gone now."

Arthur Weasley scoffed, finally gaining the strength to speak. "But to lock you down in the dungeons?! Torture you?! For over a week? That hardly seems like someone who is playing on our side."

"It doesn't matter what it seems like. It's not easy playing both sides- not that any of you would understand. Crouch did what he had to do to keep me alive—as well as himself and Goyle." Snape shot back. "So enough with the second guessing, and let's decide what we're going to do about it."

"We do what we always do, Severus." A voice said. And that same voice brightened the dark atmosphere that once filled the room. "We make it right."

Albus Dumbledore walked inside the kitchen of the house of Black, wearing his usual turquoise blue robes. His eyes sparkled like the moonlight behind his moon-rimmed spectacles. But he wasn't alone—Sirius and Lupin at his side. And as shocked Sirius was to see Snape, Snape was as shocked to see him.

"What is he doing here?" They both said in unison. Sirius quickly transformed into his dog form while Snape quickly found the strength to stand and aim his wand at his adversary.

"He is here for the same reason you are." The old wizard said simply. "We will need each other if we want to stop Lucius. And Tobias."

Sirius changed back into his regular form, his attention redirected. "Stop Tobias? Stop Tobias from what?"

As much as Snape would have loved to break the news to Sirius to spite him, he couldn't do it. Yes, he cared for Tobias, but he knew Sirius would, and always would, care more for the boy than he did. And for that, he pitied the man—he pitied the fact that he couldn't change Tobias's mind. That Sirius couldn't' be seen in a better light.

"Sirius…" Snape said softly. "Tobias has planned to kill you. And Bellatrix has given him the curse to do so."

The ex-con tensed. "What?"

"Tobias knows that you are the one who killed Rodolphus LeStrange, and Bellatrix has convinced him that they can be a family again…if he returns the favor."

"Leave it to Bellatrix to manipulate his emotions." Lupin growled.

Sirius sighed, taking a seat beside the Weasleys. "Dammit!" He banged his fist on the table. "So now what?"

"You must stay away from him." Snape responded, though he couldn't help but relish in Black's anger. "A confrontation with Tobias will only end in disaster, Sirius."

"You don't understand!" Sirius roared. "That's my godson. I don't give a damn what Bellatrix has him believing—I have to get to him! I have to."

Tonks spoke next. "Sirius, he could kill you. His magic—it's unlike anything we've ever seen before. It's powered by emotion—raw emotion. One look at you and…"

"Then, I'll tell him the truth." The ex-con looked towards Dumbledore. "The Dark Lord is dead. This is the perfect time to tell him. To get our boy on our side."

Sirius Black didn't expect applause, but he sure didn't expect the room to go dead silent at his words. They looked discouraged—they didn't even seem remotely convinced that this could be done. That they could finally save Tobias.

"Am I speaking fucking Greek?!" Sirius spat. "Why are you all silent?"

Snape let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Mad-Eye took a sip from his flask, his eyes meeting those of Remus Lupin. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

"I…" Lupin started. "I thought things would be fixed by now."

"What would be fixed by now?" asked Sirius.

"I'm sorry Sirius." Dumbledore said, making his way towards his usual seat at the head of the Black table. "But it seems we have been keeping something else from you."

"Months ago, we found out that we have been living in an alternative timeline. An alternative timeline created indirectly by Lord Voldemort through one of the Slytherin Heirs, Blaise Zabini. And the longer we stay in this alternative timeline, the closer we reach the end of time. Time will collapse on itself if we don't find a way to fix it."

Sirius had to control his anger, as there was another secret that was being kept from him. It was like he was still a prisoner in Azkaban—isolated and pushed away from the world happening around him. It made him question a number of things, but his main concern…

"And you all never thought to tell me this before?" He asked.

"Like Remus said before." Dumbledore said. "We thought we would have it fixed by now."

"You mean have everything and everyone erased from existence? Just because you all believe this timeline isn't real."

"It isn't, Sirius." Kingsley said. "It was hard for us to accept it, too."

"Everything that has happened so far are signs that we are reaching the end." Dumbledore continued. "Unfortunately, it is inevitable, but that doesn't mean we can't delay it. That's why we must be careful of what we do. Any drastic change or motion could speed up the timetable."

"Well, somebody should have told Lucius Malfoy that before he plotted to take over the whole damn world." Mad-Eye grunted. "We could be dangling off the edge of time by now."

"I don't understand." Sirius said. "If we're in danger the longer we stay here, why hasn't it been fixed? You said you all have known for months."

Lupin scratched the back his neck. "The person we need to change the timeline won't do it. We've been trying to find another way—but it's a bit difficult trying to do that when everything else around us is going to hell."

"Who is it? Maybe I can convince him."

"Quirinus Quirrell."

Sirius frowned. "Quirinus? I thought he was dead."

"He might as well be." Said Mad-Eye. "He went missing after the incident at Hogwarts two years ago, but he's resurfaced since the discovery of the alternative timeline. In the original timeline—or whatever you want to call it—he's dead. So, it only makes sense that he is the one that can change time back to the way it was."

Sirius ran a hand through his dark hair. He hadn't seen Quirinus in years. They had met a few months before Sirius was sent off to Azkaban, when Quirrell had just started working as a double agent for Lord Voldemort and the Order of the Phoenix. He was a young man then—full of life and optimism. He would do anything to make things right for what he had done as a Death Eater.

Lupin had told him about what happened two years ago at Hogwarts, when Quirrell tried to tell Tobias LeStrange the truth about his family heritage. How because of his betrayal, he was removed—physically and figuratively—from the Dark Lord's ranks and forced to live underground to protect himself from body snatchers and anyone else who wanted Quirrell's head on a silver platter.

"I…I haven't seen him in a while." Sirius said, coming out of his thoughts. "How is he?"

Arthur shook his head in disappointment. "He isn't the man he was before. It's like he doesn't even care anymore."

"Well, can you blame him?" Tonks said. "He's terrified. Look what we're asking of him."

"Sacrifices must be made." Snape drawled. "We make them every day."

Tonks shook her head. "But this is his life, Severus! We're asking him to give up his life."

"For thousands to live, Nymphadora." Lupin argued.

"Enough." Sirius interrupted. "Tonks is right. Quirrell must be scared out of his mind. But fear won't matter if we are all wiped from existence."

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore, as if asking for his approval to keep speaking. The old wizard nodded slightly, allowing him to continue.

"This is bigger than Quirrell. This is bigger than us. The longer we stay here, the harder it'll be to fix everything. We need him—and he's going to have to suck it up and do it. Because he's a soldier, and that's what soldiers do."

He then looked at Snape.

"You don't want me near Tobias, fine. I'll be going after Quirrell. We are going to fix this. We have to."

He looked at the faces sitting at the Black kitchen table, and where he expected a disagreement, he was met with nods of acceptance.

Mad-Eye smirked. "Good to have you back, kid."

"I should head back to the Ministry." Kingsley said. "I have to alert everyone of Snape's return and find everything I can on Lucius's new order."

"I'll go with you." Tonks said, and the two left at once.

Like clockwork, the rest of the Order members departed, preparing for their next move against Lucius Malfoy and the Alternative timeline. However, two members remained in the House of Black, waiting until the place was completely empty.

"Do you think he will be able to convince him?" Snape asked Dumbledore. "We have all tried and have returned empty handed. What makes you think Sirius can change his mind?"

"Faith, Severus." Dumbledore responded. "That's all we have right now. But—and this may seem absurd—but I am worried that Sirius will succeed."

Snape seemed confused. "What is there to be worried about? If Black succeeds, then the timeline is fixed."

"I'm afraid that if Quirrell agrees this time, it will be for an ulterior motive. Something happened while you were gone, Severus. And that something has made you a target."

"What are you talking about?"

Dumbledore stared at the man across form him, his eyes never faltering—his demeanor never changing. "Before Lord Voldemort died, he asked Bartemius Crouch Jr. and Bellatrix LeStrange to eliminate the weak links in his ranks. I tried to warn him…but he didn't listen."

There was a silence, and Snape felt something tightened in his stomach. If it got any tighter, he would grow sick from his weakened state.

"Bellatrix LeStrange broke into Quirrell's home sometime last week and murdered his mother. We were unaware of your capture and what you had learned…I couldn't convince him otherwise."

Snape swallowed, growing sick. His heart dropped. "He thinks I gave the order."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "He's coming for you, Severus. Of course, you will be safe at Hogwarts, but if Sirius convinces Quirrell to fix the timeline…that may not be the only thing he wants to fix."

The other wizard gave no response, yet he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Arthur Weasley had said it himself—this wasn't the man we knew before. But one thing about him had never changed—the way he felt about his mother. Snape knew now that Quirrell wouldn't listen to reason and that he would do any and every thing to return the favor. It all was a matter of when Quirrell would come, and if Snape would be strong enough to face him.

"Understood." Said Snape. He then stood up, limping his way into the Black Foyer. He closed his eyes as he fought through the pain, which was both physical and emotional. He remembered the last words Quirrell said to him before that fateful night at Hogwarts.

 _Till we meet again._

* * *

That night, Hermione met Blaise in the library. She couldn't stop thinking about what Draco had told her earlier. That she should stay out of it. But she knew she couldn't do that. She finally decided that she needed a second opinion, which brought her to where she was now.

"As much as I hate to say this. I agree with Malfoy."

Hermione felt her mouth drop open in disbelief as the words came out of the tan Slytherin's mouth. She now wished she had just gone to McGonagall herself, instead of consulting Blaise on what she should do about Tobias's mysterious broom. She didn't know why she asked him anyway—she had already made up her mind. She was going to tell McGonagall, but something was stopping her from doing so.

"You're joking?" Hermione gaped. "You honestly think I should listen to Draco? After everything that's happened?"

Blaise sighed. "You're really making me hate myself right now, Granger. Yes, I agree with Malfoy, but to an extent."

The Gryffindor witch crossed her arms. "And to what extent is that?"

"I think you should stay out of it, because going straight to McGonagall won't end well for you." The Slytherin explained. "But being who you are, you won't. Because of that, I strongly suggest that you be honest with Tobias and tell him what you're about to do."

Hermione frowned. "You want me to tell Tobias that I think Sirius Black sent him the Firebolt and that I'm going to tell McGonagall so she can confiscate it?"

"Well, when you put it like that," Blaise smirked. "precisely."

"The old Blaise Zabini would have convinced me to go straight to McGonagall."

Zabini laughed. "On the contrary, the old Zabini would have went straight to McGonagall before the idea even popped in your head. But the new Zabini…" He reached over, grabbing Hermione's hand. "doesn't want you to get hurt."

The witch blushed furiously, trying to hide the sight from Blaise, but she knew she was failing horribly. She didn't know why she felt this way about him—after everything he had done to her. Turning her friends against each other, the constant bullying because of her blood status, and the awful mind games. It wasn't right, but she couldn't help it.

"I won't." She said, catching herself. She lightly moved her hand from under Blaise's "So…um…did you find an answer to your problem?"

The boy frowned as the subject changed. "No. I read every book you found for me, but there's nothing I can do to fix it. Only delay."

"No." Hermione said quickly. "There has to be some way. We just have to find more books."

"Granger. There are no more books. We've stripped this place from top to bottom, from Magical Time Theory to Greatest Time Travelers of the World. We've just have to accept—"

"NO!" Hermione exclaimed for the second time that night. She didn't realize it but she had grabbed Blaise's hand. The boy smirked, and her cheeks again went a horrible shy red.

Blaise wanted to say something else, but—

"Time's up, Granger," said Pansy Parkinson. She came swiftly around the corner, closing the book that Hermione knew she hadn't been reading. Her mind was elsewhere, and the Gryffindor made a note to ask her about it later.

"Aw, just five more minutes, mother," Blaise teased.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Hermione, let's go."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" said Hermione to Blaise.

"If you're lucky."

The Gryffindor witch smiled, trying to fight the guilty feeling she had for doing so. This wasn't a normal smile—it was a smile she had only done around one person. Draco. She wasn't actually sure how she felt about the blonde-Slytherin. She adored the fact that he was trying to make up for what happened before the holidays, but could it be that he was too late?

She quickly gathered her things, following Pansy out of the library. She tried her best not to look back at the table where she and Blaise sat, because she knew that he would still be sitting there.

"I think that may have been the most pleasant conversation I've heard between you two." Said Pansy as they stepped into the corridors. "Awkward to listen to, but pleasant."

Hermione gripped her books closer to her, smiling once more. "I told you. He's changed."

"I'm not the one you need to convince, Granger."

* * *

The next morning came and school continued as usual. Except there were a few differences. Neville had chosen a new seat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, embarrassed to sit with Tobias, Theo, and Hermione after his outburst on the train yesterday. He was afraid that his anger would return, and he would tell Tobias the history between the LeStrange's and the Longbottom's—possibly hurting him in the process.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, alone. The only company he had was the charm bracelet that he had gotten Hermione. He kept it in his robes pocket, waiting for the right moment to give it to her. Though his hopes for that moment grew less and less as he saw Blaise Zabini walk into the Great Hall. He noticed that his sworn enemy looked happier than usual, and Draco felt a tightening in his gut. He had a feeling that it was due to Hermione, who had her eyes locked on the tan Slytherin as he walked to his usual seat across from Crabbe and Goyle. Feeling the jealously rising in his veins, Draco gathered his things and left the great chamber.

Tobias, Theodore, and Hermione sat at their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. They were soon joined by Ron, who felt as awkward as they did as they ate their breakfast. They sat in silence, unsure what to talk about.

"Ron! Ron!" Someone cried out, knocking the four out of their silence. Looking up, they saw Tracey Davis racing towards their spot at the Gryffindor table. She looked excited about something, but Tobias wasn't sure what she was excited about. School had just started. He also wasn't sure what she needed Ron for.

"Tracey?" Ron said, his face turning red. "What's going on?"

"It's Snape." She said quickly. "He's back. We have to go."

Without any debate, Ron quickly grabbed his things and followed the girl out of the Great Hall, leaving Tobias, Theodore, and Hermione alone once more. Theodore spoke next, breaking the silence.

"Is it me, or is something going on between Davis and Ronald?" He asked, taking the uneaten pieces of bacon from Ron's abandoned plate.

"It's a lot of things happening between a lot of people these days," Hermione said, casting a look at Tobias.

But Tobias barely heard her. His attention immediately went back to the girl across the room, sitting at the Slytherin table. His betrothed. Pansy Parkinson. He always thought she looked better in her school robes, her hair pulled into that messy ponytail she liked. But today, she looked absolutely beautiful. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He wondered why he had never noticed it before.

He also didn't notice Theodore waving his hand back and forth in front of his face.

"Yeah, I've seen this before," said Theo. "And I know exactly how to fix it."

The boy brought his hand back, preparing to make contact with Tobias's face.

Hermione covered her eyes. "Theodore, don't."

As if they were words of encouragement, Theo smirked, feeling the wind rush through his fingers as he prepared for the blow. But before his hand could reach his victim, Tobias grabbed his arm in mid-swing, his eyes still in a daze.

"What the…" said Theodore, examining the scene.

Tobias stood up, setting down the other Slytherin's arm. "I'll see you guys later."

"Actually, Tobias," Hermione said quickly, standing up as well. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Can it wait till later, Hermione?"

"No, it really can't, but…" But Tobias was already gone.

"Whatcha gotta tell him?" Theodore asked, now stealing the uneaten pieces of toast from Tobias's plate.

"Um, nothing. Well…" Hermione bit her lip, trying to see how she could explain this to Theodore without revealing her true intentions. "Theo, don't you think there's something weird about Tobias's new broom?"

"Weird as in totally wicked? Definitely."

The witch closed her eyes. "No, weird as in an anonymous someone knowing Tobias well enough to know that he needed a new broom."

Theodore bit into a piece of toast. "Not this again. Hermione, there's nothing wrong with Tobias's broom."

"Has he flown it yet?"

"No."

"Then how does he—how does anybody know it's not dangerous?" argued Hermione. "For all we know that broom could be cursed."

Theo laughed. "And who would want to curse Tobias with a broom?" He then frowned. "Don't answer that."

"Theo, I'm serious. What if Black sent Tobias that broom? What if the moment Tobias takes flight, something happens…something worse than when Quirrell cursed his broom during first year?"

"If the broom was cursed, Hermione," said Theodore. "It would have cursed Tobias by now, as well as me, and Ron, and Tracey—and maybe Crabbe and Goyle. We all touched it. Nothing happened."

Hermione wanted to argue back, but she started to feel that queasy feeling when Theodore was right about something. She saw Tobias touch that broom and nothing happened. What if it wasn't from Black?

"You're freaking out over nothing." The boy said through a mouthful of toast.

* * *

Tobias made his way over to the Slytherin table, where an unsuspecting Pansy Parkinson was enjoying a cup of orange juice. He slowly took his seat, not taking his eyes off her until she noticed him. And when she finally did, they rolled to the side.

"Like what you see, LeStrange?" She drawled.

The boy smiled. "I do. Very much."

She narrowed her eyes at him, taking another sip of her juice. "Did Granger send you over here?"

"No. Actually, she was trying to get me to stay."

"Hm. I see." Said Pansy. "So what do you want?"

"I wanted to talk about what happened on Christmas." Tobias explained. "About when we…when I…and you…you know…"

Pansy smirked, relishing in Tobias's ramble. "When we _what_?"

"When we kissed." The boy said quickly. "It's all I've been thinking about since we returned to school yesterday."

"Really?"

The dark-haired Slytherin nodded. "Yeah. And you, of course. I just…I needed to see you…because…"

"Because you don't know how to explain _this._ " Said Pansy, motioning her finger between the two of them. "Because last year you said you didn't want to ruin our friendship, and now here we are. Ruining it."

"Are we?" Tobias said sheepishly.

"I don't know. Do you still have feelings for She-Weasel?"

"So that's what this is about?" said Tobias, with a smirk. Although, he immediately regretted it when Pansy thumped him upside his head.

"I'm being serious, LeStrange," She said, and Tobias could hear a hint of concern in her voice. He dropped his smirk, knowing how Pansy felt about him. It made him think. Did he do the right thing by kissing her? Or did he just make another situation worse?

"You know how I feel about you, and you wanted us to be friends. Now a year later, you kiss me and now…what? Do you like me? Are we supposed to be _together_ now?"

Tobias shifted in his seat. "I've ruined things, haven't I?"

"Tobias…I don't know." The girl sighed loudly. "I'm just don't want to get my hopes up about something that won't be."

"Then, let me make it up to you," Tobias said the words before he even thought about it. "Let me prove to you that we aren't ruining this. That this can…be."

Pansy shook her head. "Just forget I said anything. You have a thousand other things to worry about."

"But this is important to me." Said Tobias, taking her hand. Pansy felt her heart skip a beat when their hands touched. And so did Tobias. "Let me worry about it."

Pansy blushed, but didn't let her feelings get the better of her. "Fine. But if you blow this LeStrange, I promise it'll be the last thing you ever do."

"Yes ma'am." Tobias smirked. "I'll see you at lunch." He then got up, gathering his things to leave, but not before he snuck a kiss on Pansy's cheek. The girl went a furious red, causing the boy to laugh on his way out of the Great Hall.

* * *

There were a lot of things Snape didn't want to deal with when he returned to Hogwarts. Being confronted by Ronald Weasley and Tracey Davis was towards the top of the list. For a split second, he wished he was back in his cell at LeStrange Manor.

"Miss Davis…" he said slowly. "Can't this wait until after your classes?"

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Tracey. "I wouldn't be bothering you unless it was absolutely important. And this…this is important."

Ron nodded in agreement, unsure how to respond or react. He was worried about Tracey, of course, but now he was worried about Snape. If anyone believed that the wizard had truly went on vacation this Christmas holiday, there were about as dumb as a doorknob. Snape looked worse than usual. His hair was thinner. He had stubble growing, threatening a beard. There were signs of wear and tear everywhere—as if Snape had been tortured.

 _What had happened since You-Know-Who's death?_

Snape nodded, seeing as he wouldn't be to win this fight. Well he could've, he just didn't feel like it.

"Very well, Miss Davis." The wizard then pulled out one of his desk drawers, grabbing a vertically-folded piece of parchment from it. Ron could see the name written neatly on the front. _Tracey._

"Your father wanted me to give you this once I returned. You will find all the answers you need in its contents. Or at least that's what your father told me."

Tracey grabbed the letter immediately, but hesitated to open it. Ron raised an eyebrow at her. Why wasn't she reading it? She had been so worried about her dad, the Gryffindor thought that she would tearing the parchment apart by now, reading the letter faster than Hermione did when she found a good book to read.

But instead, Tracey discarded the letter into her bag. "Thank you, Professor."

Snape grunted. "I will not be writing neither of you a pass to class."

The two students didn't argue, though Ron wanted to. They had a legitimate reason for why they were late to their first lesson, Snape could have at least given them a piece of parchment with his name written on it. But as he and Tracey walked down the corridor to Defense Against the Dark Arts, the absence of a pass drifted from his thoughts.

Ron noticed that Tracey had pulled the piece of parchment form her bag, yet she still hesitated to open it. He noticed that the Slytherin girl had an expression similar to Ron's when he received a howler from his mother last year. But as he continued to observe her, he noticed that her expression was deeper than that. He felt something that he had felt one too many times in his past two years at Hogwarts.

Fear.

 _So, Tracey's afraid of what's in the letter?_ Ron thought. But what was to be afraid of? If her dad had given Snape a letter to give to her, that meant her father was alright. Right?

"Did you want to go somewhere and read it?" He asked. "I can cover for you in class. I'll tell Lupin that you got sick or something."

Tracey didn't say anything, but Ron knew she was debating her options. He was used to that kind of silence with Tobias, Theodore, and Malfoy. He didn't mind covering for her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but deep down—

"Would come read it with me?" Tracey said suddenly. "I mean…would you come with me, while I read it?"

Ron's ears went hot. "You mean, like…skip class?"

"You don't have to." Tracey said, smiling slightly. "I know how you Gryffindors hate breaking the rules."

" _Hate breaking rules?_ " The boy spluttered, almost laughing. "I've broken more rules in a day than most would in a lifetime. Skipping class wouldn't be the worst thing I've done."

"Then it's settled, we're skipping class." Before Ron could really put together what was going on, Tracey had already grabbed his hand and led him in the opposite direction of Lupin's class. The Gryffindor gulped as he knew exactly where they were headed.

* * *

Today's Defense Against the Arts class had a different atmosphere for Tobias. Today, he was to set up his Dementor Defense lessons with Professor Lupin. Though he hadn't had another incident since the last Quidditch match, the Slytherin didn't want to take his chances. The dementors were targeting him for a reason, and whether he knew that reason or not, he knew he had a right to defend himself.

When class ended, Tobias quickly gathered his books, making his way towards Lupin's desk. But before he could reach it, he was stopped by Hermione.

"Tobias, I need to talk to you." The girl whispered urgently.

"Not now, Hermione," Tobias said quickly, trying to maneuver past her. "Can we talk later?"

"You said that this morning, which means this is later." Hermione huffed. "Tobias, I really need to talk to you. I think there's something strange going on with your broom."

"The only thing strange is you keep bombarding everyone with questions about it. I know you asked Theodore about my Firebolt this morning."

Hermione frowned. "Is it honestly strange that someone may have cursed a normal object to make the user do it's bidding. Or to hurt them?"

Tobias narrowed his eyes at here. He knew exactly what she was referring to. His grandfather's diary. The same diary that Ginny Weasley had been using her whole second year, thinking that it was just a normal diary, and that the entity inside it, Tom Riddle, was a normal friend. But it was Tom Riddle who had used Ginny's innocence to launch his master plan, almost killing the youngest Weasley and the muggle-born students of Hogwarts.

"What are you trying to say, Hermione?" Tobias said sternly. "Why can't for once you just admit that there's nothing wrong? Stop over-analyzing everything."

"I am _not_ over-analyzing anything." Hermione seethed. "The fact that you can't see anything wrong with this situation scares me the most, Tobias. It scares me more than the fact that a mass murderer is out for you!"

"That's for me to worry about." Growled Tobias. "There's nothing wrong with that broom."

And with that, Tobias pushed past her, heading once more for Professor Lupin's desk. But of course, Hermione had to have the last word before Tobias reached his destination.

"I'm going to tell McGonagall." She said. "And then we'll know for sure that there's nothing wrong with it."

The witch then stormed out of the classroom, the door slamming behind her. Tobias felt rooted to the floor. A part of him wanted to run after Hermione, stop her from going to McGonagall about his new Firebolt. But what for? He was sure there was nothing wrong with that broom—or was he blinded by something else? Was he so eager to ride the Firebolt, that he was disregarding the fact that the broom may actually be dangerous? There was no note, no return address, not even an initial.

"Did you need something, Mister LeStrange?" Lupin asked, knocking the boy out of his thoughts.

Tobias blinked, remembering what he came to Lupin for. "Uh, yes, Professor. I, um…" He cleared his throat. "I wanted to talk to you about my dementor problem."

"Ah yes," The professor responded. "But I will warn you, it will require hard work and dedication. Dementors are restless, and for you to defeat them, you must be restless as well. You cannot quit."

The boy nodded eagerly. "Of course, of course. I'm ready, Professor."

Lupin stared at Tobias long and hard, as if he was examining the boy's qualities. But deep down, Lupin knew that Tobias could do it, but if only he could express why he knew it.

"Very well then. We shall begin…let me see…how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough. Though I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this." He laughed lightly. "Can't bring a real dementor into the castle to practice on, now can we?"

"No sir," Tobias smiled. "So, Thursday, at eight?"

The professor nodded. "Eight on the dot. Arrive on time, Mister LeStrange."

The Slytherin third-year nodded again, speeding out of the classroom. The doors closed once more, but not before opening again, housing the new guest inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Here to criticize me?" asked Lupin. He didn't even look from the assignments he was grading.

"Unfortunately, no…" Snape drawled. "My visit, however, which is also unfortunate, is for another matter."

"Unfortunate for me…or for you?"

Snape's frown went even deeper. One could tell it was killing Snape to do this—whatever _this_ was. And Lupin had a feeling that it wasn't the usual Severus Snape dilemma.

"I need your help." Snape said crisply, a vein bulging from his forehead. This was harder than he thought.

The other wizard wanted to laugh. "Help? You need my help?"

"I know this may be very entertaining for you, Remus, but it is true. I require your assistance, with a personal matter."

"What is it?"

Snape waved his wand, casting a silencing charm on the room. Lupin could feel the strength of the enchantment—no one would be able to hear in, and they wouldn't be able to hear out. Whatever Snape needed help with, it was obvious he didn't want anybody else to know.

"Black is on his way right now to confront Quirrell about the timeline, and I am afraid that he will succeed."

Lupin frowned. "Afraid? I thought we wanted Sirius to convince Quirrell to help us change the timeline back?"

"As a whole, yes, we do." Snape explained. "But if it was up to me, and my personal health, I would rather die an inevitable death of time collapsing on itself."

"Your personal health? Snape what are you talking about?"

The greasy-haired wizard gritted his teeth, his stomach trying in knots as he thought about it. "Quirrell wants my head. He thinks that I am the current Heir to the Throne—meaning that he thinks I'm responsible for Bellatrix's attack on his mother. Due to my imprisonment at LeStrange Manor, I am weak—and I'm not recovering fast enough to defend myself if Sirius convinces Quirrell to help us, which could be any day now."

"Shit." Lupin cursed under his breath. "So if Quirrell does agree to help us, it won't be to help us, but an excuse to get to you? Meaning that in his agreement, there may be an ulterior motive?"

Snape nodded. "You all forget that Quirrell was once a Death Eater. We always have ulterior motives."

"And what's yours, Severus? What is your ulterior motive for all this? Coming to me for protection? Is that the set up? To have Quirrell aiming his wand at me instead of you?"

"Once again Remus," The other wizard said. "You're thinking too small. I'm not asking you to fight Quirrell. I'm asking you to use your voice for something other than to judge me. When the time comes."

Remus frowned. "And how will I know when is the right time?"

"That's for you to decide."

* * *

Pansy waited for Tobias at lunch, and instantly felt foolish when 15 minutes passed and the Slytherin didn't show. _If this is his way of proving I'm important, he's a dead man._ She thought. She hadn't seen Tobias since Defense Against the Dark Arts. She thought she would be a good girlfriend— _was girlfriend even the word?_ —and wait for him outside of the classroom, but finally gave up as the minutes passed. Especially after Hermione stormed out of the classroom, leaving a trail so hot her footsteps singed the marble floors.

But Pansy thought nothing of it, she assumed that Tobias wanted to talk to Lupin about something. And she didn't want to be late for her next class, which Tobias also didn't show up to. Nor did Tracey, and surprisingly, Weasley. Was everybody skipping classes today? She looked across the Great Hall, watching as Hermione was eating her lunch and reading her Transfiguration textbook at the same time. _Everyone except Granger._

"Ahem." Squeaked a small, but giddy voice.

Pansy looked up to see Colin Creevy, that weird second-year kid who was stalking Tobias all last year, standing in front of her. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers and a pink envelope. Pansy really tried to not roll her eyes, but nonetheless—at least someone was trying.

"Sorry, kid," She said as nice as she could. "But you're not my type."

"Oh," Colin said, smiling brighter than ever. "These aren't from me. They're from Tobias."

Pansy almost choked on her food. " _LeStrange?_ LeStrange told you to bring me these?" She took the flowers and the envelope at once. The flowers were white roses, her favorite. She opened the letter, reading it quickly. But she frowned as quick as she read it, as the note was nowhere near what she expected.

 _Quidditch pitch. 5pm. Bring the roses._

The Slytherin girl looked back at Colin, who looked as if he was blessed with Cupid's true power of love.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

Colin smiled again. "What does the note say?"

"To meet him at the Quidditch pitch…" Pansy frowned. "Wait. You don't know what the note says?"

"Nope. Tobias asked me to deliver something to you. So, I did."

Once again, Pansy rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. Colin, do you know where LeStrange is?"

As if he had been petrified again, Colin's smile dropped. "Uh, I'm not supposed to tell you that."

"Because he told you to?"

Colin nodded. Now finding this spectacle humorous, Pansy laughed. This made Colin even more uncomfortable than he already was. He probably was hoping that Pansy didn't ask that question—and Pansy probably expected that Tobias didn't give him an answer.

She smiled. "Colin, do you know who I am?"

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Yes. Pansy Parkinson. Tobias LeStrange's betrothed and girlfriend. You're young so you wouldn't understand, but it's not good for your girlfriend to be upset at you."

Colin shuffled his feet. "Ummmmm…."

"And you're Tobias's friend, right?"

"Yes, of course!" Colin said eagerly, hoping that he would be able to leave now. But, unfortunately for him, Pansy wasn't done.

"Okay. So, think of it this way. Friends don't let their friend's girlfriends become upset with them."

Colin seemed like he was about to break. Pansy had successfully manipulated the boy's loyalty to LeStrange for her own purpose. Just one more push and she would know exactly where Tobias was—so she could punch him.

"Oh, leave the boy alone, Parkinson." A voice teased.

Colin sighed in relief as Draco Malfoy came around to her side of the table. He motioned for Colin to leave, and the Gryffindor boy didn't think twice as he sprinted out of the Great Hall. Draco smirked, seeing that Parkinson was red in the face. He plucked one of her roses out of the bouquet, smelling it in delight.

"You make it really hard to not want to kill you, Malfoy." She said.

Draco smirked. "Maybe if you're patient, you just might succeed."

"I don't _do_ patience. I get what I want—no matter how I have to get it."

"Which means almost making a Gryffindor second-year wet himself?" The other Slytherin laughed.

Pansy smiled maliciously. "I had my reason."

The blonde Slytherin nodded, eyeing once more the bouquet of roses and the pink envelope sitting by Parkinson's plate. "All this from Tobias?"

"Unfortunately. He wants me to meet him on the Quidditch pitch this evening."

Draco snorted. "How romantic."

"You're one to talk." Pansy shot back. "You've barely talked to Hermione since we've been back. Usually, you're all over her by now."

At those words, Draco went rigid, but he soon regained his composure. "Granger has…other interests."

"Enlighten me."

Draco looked around, making sure that nobody was listening. He felt silly enough knowing that he was going crazy over the whole situation, but he had to tell someone what was going on.

"Is it just me?" He whispered. "Or are Zabini and Hermione have a _thing_ going on?"

Pansy raised a brow. "A thing?"

"You know…a thing. Like how me and Granger had a thing. A thing."

"You mean you having a crush Granger and never telling her how you feel type thing?" The girl teased.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "No. A thing where we _both_ like each other, but don't tell each other how we feel. I'm getting that vibe—but it's _Zabini._ "

"Hm." Said Pansy, plucking a rose. "That's new."

"You mean," The blonde Slytherin seemed surprised. "Hermione hasn't told you anything? Nothing about her and Zabini."

"Not a thing." Pansy lied.

"You're barking. You and Granger spent most of the holiday together. She must have told you _something._ "

The girl smirked. "Guess she's just as good as keeping secrets as you are."

Draco's face went red.

"Look, if you really want to know, why don't you go ask _Hermione_ about it?" said Pansy, gathering her things for their next class. "Then, you two can finally talk about what happened. And then you can stop trying to make conversation with me—we aren't exactly friends, Malfoy. In case you forgot."

Pansy left, leaving Draco at the table by himself. He looked across the Great Hall, his eyes heading straight towards Hermione. Her head was in a book as usual, but Draco thought it was the most peaceful thing he had going right now. He swore on Christmas that he wasn't going to give up—and he wasn't. Even if Hermione had her eyes on someone else.

/

To skip his first class, Ron felt totally fine. But to skip two, and then three lessons? Ronald Weasley was about to lose it. He tried to stay as calm as he could, but he couldn't help the gut wrenching feeling that someone would walk through the Astronomy Tower doors, catching them.

"You're free to leave when you want, Weasley." Tracey said. She had picked her poison and stood on the balcony area of the Astronomy Tower. Ron knew she had a lot to process, and he wanted to be there for her in case she needed him. But his paranoia was getting the best of him.

"No. No." He said, pulling out the strength to stand beside her. "It's fine. I want to make sure you're alright."

"Why?" She asked. "We got our answer. My father isn't dead."

"But he's on the run. Running from You-Know-Who's followers. And though he is alive, you're worried."

Tracey closed her eyes. "It's my dad, Ron. It's kind of hard to not be worried about him. Yes, he's alive today, but what happens tomorrow?"

It was a legit question, and Ron found out that he had no answer. He had never experienced something like this. His parents being on the run. A kingdom falling apart. The dangers of who to follow and who not to follow. The feeling that you may never see your loved ones again. It was too much for someone his age to handle. And yet here was Tracey, handling it.

"I think that…that he'll be okay." Ron said, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was saying. It was more of a feeling than a knowing.

"I admire your optimism, Ron, but I just don't see how he would."

Ron scratched the back of his neck. He knew what he wanted to say, he just didn't know how to put it in words. But he decided that he would wing it.

"Because your strong, and where do you think you got that from?" He said. He saw something close to realization in Tracey's eyes. And in that, he found the confidence to continue.

"Most girls would be crying their eyes out right now. But here you are, standing on the Astronomy Tower, breaking at least three school rules, and you haven't even shed a tear yet. That's strength."

The Slytherin girl turned to look at him, and Ron saw something else in her eyes. It sparkled like diamonds and it made his ears red hot. Before he knew it, he felt something warm on his cheek. Tracey had kissed him. His whole face was red by this time, and growing redder by the second.

Tracey laughed. "Cute. You look like a tomato."

Ron laughed as well. "Well, you know me…"

"If only we had a broom, huh?" She said, looking over the Hogwarts grounds from the tower. Ron's face turned back to its original color as he thought about something. He grabbed Tracey's hand, pulling her away from the balcony.

"Fred and George showed me where Madam Hooch keeps all the spare brooms." He explained as they headed down the steps. "In the mood to break some more rules?"

Tracey blushed, but Ron didn't see. "I think I'm becoming a bad influence on you, Weasley."

"Well, in that case," the boy teased. "if we get caught, I'll just say it's your fault."

* * *

5 o'clock came, and Tobias felt his heart pounding against his chest. _Maybe_ _this was a bad idea_. He thought. Maybe he should've just been like a normal boyfriend— _was boyfriend even the word?_ —and took Pansy on a nice picnic. Or just lead with the flowers and got her some chocolates. He really just wanted this to go exactly as planned. He wanted to show Pansy she was important to him.

But his doubts faded away as he saw his betrothed walking onto the Quidditch pitch. She looked rightfully pissed, but Tobias would make up for it. Anyway, he liked it when she was upset.

"Okay LeStrange," She said, marching towards him. "What's up? You don't show up for lunch, you send Creevy, out of all people, to give me some flowers and a letter that doesn't even say anything worth reading."

Tobias laughed. "Colin told me how you almost made him mess his trousers."

"I wouldn't have had to do that had you just told me what was going on!"

"I wanted to test your patience." He responded. "Which clearly, you have none of."

The Slytherin girl eyes went into slits, and Tobias knew that he was pushing his luck. He reached out his hand, summoning his Firebolt. It snapped into his hand with a clap. He then used his free hand to reach out to Pansy.

"I haven't ridden it yet," said Tobias. "And I figured, who to share this momentous occasion with other than you…my girlfriend."

As if the word "girlfriend" was the stop button to Pansy's anger, she completely forgot what she was upset about. Of course, it was about LeStrange, she was always angry with him. But it was like someone took a huge eraser and wiped those thoughts from her head. Right now, it was just him, her, the Firebolt, and an empty Quidditch pitch.

Her legs moved on their own, closing the gap between her and her betrothed. She took his hand and together they mounted Tobias's Firebolt. And as soon as her bottom touched the seat of the broom, she came back to her senses, but it was already too late.

"Oh hell." She said, realizing what she was doing. "Um, Tobias…"

He laughed. "Woah. Did you just call me Tobias?"

"Yes," Pansy said quickly, "I just called you that, because…I've just realized. I can't ride this broom with you."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of heights, Pansy. I thought you weren't afraid of anything."

Pansy huffed. "I'm not afraid of heights. I just don't particularly fancy being that high in the air."

"But you fancy me, don't you?" said Tobias.

"Yes, but what does that—"

"Then, trust me."

Tobias then kicked off the ground, and Pansy felt her heart fall into her stomach. She screamed so loud she was sure the whole castle heard her. She wrapped her arms tightly around Tobias's waist, squeezing her eyes shut as the wind blew through her robes. The Firebolt really lived up to his name, they were flying so fast.

"Open your eyes!" She heard Tobias scream. "It's okay. I've got you."

Hesitant at first, Pansy barely opened her eyes. She could see the whole Quidditch pitch from where they were, and that's when she realized they weren't flying anymore. The Slytherin girl opened her eyes fully, and she didn't realize that her grip on Tobias had loosened. From this view, she finally realized why Tobias loved playing Quidditch so much. You could see everything—the forbidden forest, Hagrid's hut, the greenhouses. Hogwarts looked beautiful in the afternoon.

"And all this time, I've been walking." She said softly, nuzzling her head in Tobias's shoulder.

"I knew you would like it." He said back. "Once you finally opened your eyes."

"Did you mean it?" Pansy asked. "About me being your girlfriend?"

"Only if you meant it when you told Colin." Tobias said, smirking. "Kidding. Of course, I meant it. I know all of this is weird for you, though."

"No…it's not weird. Not at all."

They shared a smile, and it was back to broomstick flying around Hogwarts. It was the most blissful thing they had both done since school started. For just this moment, Pansy was able to forget about everything and just focus on the wind. On the sun setting around them, and on the boy she was holding on to.

But that blissful feeling would only last so long. This was Tobias LeStrange she was dealing with.

It was nearly 7 o'clock when Tobias landed his Firebolt back on the Quidditch pitch. Pansy didn't want the ride to end, but due to the Sirius Black debacle, Tobias LeStrange had a curfew—and that curfew was about to be in effect.

Pansy wanted to say something—well it was more so do something—before they had to walk back to the castle. But she soon realized they weren't the only ones on the Quidditch pitch.

"Mister LeStrange. Miss Parkinson." Professor McGonagall said. Tobias noticed that Hermione was standing beside the professor, trying her best not to make eye contact with him. He then remembered their small argument in DADA. _No._

"We were just on our way back to the castle, Professor." Pansy said. "We aren't breaking any rules."

"Be that as it may," McGonagall said. "My visit is not about Mister LeStrange's curfew, but about his latest Christmas present."

She stepped closer, eyeing Tobias's Firebolt through her beady eyes. "So that's it, is it?"

Tobias was silent. He knew that if he said anything, it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Miss Granger has informed me that you received this broom as a gift…from an anonymous buyer."

Before Tobias or Pansy could say anything, the Professor had taken the broom out of the Slytherin boy's hand. She examined it from the start to the finish.

"It isn't cursed," Pansy blurted. "Tobias and I just rode it around the Quidditch pitch. Nothing happened."

Professor McGonagall ignored her. "Are you sure there was no note, LeStrange? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No ma'am." Tobias said bluntly. He was literally trembling right now.

"I see. Well, I'm afraid, as you already know, I am going to have to take this."

Pansy grew hot then. "Take it for _what_?"

"It will need to be checked for jinxes." The Professor said sharply. "Yes, Miss Parkinson, I am aware that nothing happened when you and LeStrange rode this broom, but that doesn't assume it's safety for when it is ridden again. If course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down— "

 _"Strip it down?!"_ Tobias shrieked. He was looking at Professor McGonagall as if she was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks. We will return it to you at once when we are sure that it is jinx-free."

"But there's nothing wrong with it!" Tobias argued back.

"Then, you will have no problem with us double checking." Professor McGonagall snapped. "I will keep you informed Mister LeStrange."

The professor then marched off the Quidditch pitch, holding Tobias's Firebolt in her hand. Tobias's and Pansy's eyes immediately snapped to Hermione, who hadn't moved since she and McGonagall stepped on the Quidditch pitch. Her face was horribly red and her legs look as if they were about to give out. She had been prepared to deal with Tobias's anger, but she was nowhere near prepared to deal with Pansy's.

"I…I..." She started. She then puffed her chest. "I wanted to make sure that Tobias's broom wasn't sent to him by Sirius Black! This was the only way!"

Tobias scoffed, storming off the Quidditch pitch. He didn't say a word as he passed by Hermione. He didn't even look at her. And that left Hermione with Pansy Parkinson, who looked as if she wanted to cast a killing curse.

" _Granger, what did you do?"_

 **Author's Note:**

 **Gotta love Hermione! Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	58. POA20: Bait

Home

A place where I can go

To take this off my shoulders

Someone take me Home

Someone take me

~ Home x Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha

Chapter 58: Bait

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

It was supposed to be a nice dinner. No. A _perfect_ dinner. The first actual meal Crouch Jr. and Bellatrix LeStrange had shared in a long time. But the man found out that he couldn't enjoy this dinner as much as he wanted to. Not with the knowledge he had.

Bellatrix didn't look up, cutting into her steak. "What are you talking about now, Crouch?"

"Manipulating the boy," Crouch Jr. responded. "You didn't even hesitate."

It was in her nature, of course. It was who Bellatrix LeStrange was—he knew that. But it made him feel even worse that he had tried to convince Tobias that she was different. The Dark Lord had trusted them to watch over the boy—to mold him into the best image. Crouch didn't care about Sirius, he cared about what would happen when Tobias would return home and find out that Bellatrix wouldn't keep her promise. The tension between mother and son was already apparent, why make things worse?

"He murdered my husband…is it wrong to want revenge?"

The man laughed mockingly. "I must have missed the memo where you cared so much about Rodolphus."

This made the witch lift her head from her steak, and their eyes met. Her blackened eyes—they seemed soul-less, but Crouch knew better. He had loved her all his life—he had seen her at her weakest, he had seen her soul. And like always, it was beautiful. But now, he had to admit that he had seen too much.

"He isn't my son, Bartemius." She said through her teeth.

"But the Dark Lord tasked you to be his mother. And you send him to his doom?"

"He will rip Black apart! His magic—"

"I'm not talking about Black, Bella!" Crouch yelled back. "I'm talking about you. Tobias kills Sirius, then what? You will finally be the mother he deserves? You all will live happily ever after?"

"I will know he is loyal to me." Bellatrix spat.

The man shook his head. "He is already loyal to you. He barely knows you—and will kill for you, because this is something he wants. And you perverted it. For what?"

"Have you forgotten who he is?" The witch asked, her voice laced with venom.

"It doesn't matter who he is."

It was Bellatrix's turn to laugh. "It does. This is what all of this is about, isn't it? That boy. The Dark Lord's death. You and me being broken out of Azkaban. Lucius's reign. It's all about that boy. Everything depends on one boy—so why not test his loyalty? Why not push the limits? We have all seen how easy it is to switch sides."

Crouch found that he couldn't argue with her there. This whole argument had sprouted because of his feelings for Tobias. With the Dark Lord gone, he saw Tobias as more of his son than his duty. With everything going on, he wanted the boy to at least feel like the other children. But it was true—everything revolved around him. But the question that Bellatrix now sparked: What did Tobias care about?

"And what if your plan backfires?"

"It won't."

* * *

That night, Tobias couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried, it was impossible. There were too many things running through his mind. And he was still aching from Hermione's betrayal.

He knew the witch meant well. He knew that she was worried about his safety—what if that broom had been from Sirius Black? But Tobias didn't want to believe it—with everything going on, seeing that broom brought back something normal in his life. And now that last piece of normal was gone. Now he had nothing to take these thoughts away.

He tried to think about earlier, riding on the Firebolt with Pansy. In that moment, he felt peace. True peace. And if he knew what was to come after, he would've flown the broom out of Hogwarts. Away from all the pressure—away from the dementors, from Sirius Black. Just to be free for a while longer. Now he couldn't go anywhere. There was no escape.

Giving up the will to fall asleep, Tobias climbed out of his bed. He didn't notice that all the occupants of the room weren't in their beds. He only noticed Theodore, who was sleeping away, snoring softly. The Slytherin heir grabbed his robe, creeping out of the room and down the steps.

His destination was the Slytherin common room. But Tobias found himself surprised when he saw a dim light coming from the chamber. Someone had lit a fire in the fireplace. As he crept slowly down the steps, he saw more and more of the current occupant of the common room. He felt a rush of anger surge through him as he saw the top of his cousin's blonde hair.

Draco was sitting on the couch, no doubt staring into the fire. Had he not been able to sleep as well? Tobias didn't move from the last step of the staircase. He didn't know what to do at this moment. He was certain that he didn't want to go back upstairs, and he knew it wouldn't be wise for him to wander the castle. But he certainly didn't want to share a room with Draco. He already had too much to think about.

But as always, fate was not on his side.

"I heard about your broom." Draco said. He didn't even turn around. "I'm sorry. I told Hermione to stay out of it."

Tobias took a step forward. "You knew she was going to tell? And you didn't tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?"

Silence. Tobias had no answer to that question. Would he have believed Draco? Ever since he found out the truth about his father, Tobias wasn't sure if he could ever trust the Malfoy heir again. And if that was so, why did he still have the feeling that Draco was the only person he could trust right now?

"I don't know." Tobias answered honestly, but he knew his answer wouldn't be enough. "I guess you figured that I wouldn't, which is why you tried to stop Hermione yourself?"

He saw Draco's head nod. Tobias was now unable to stop himself from walking towards the couch where Draco was sitting. However, instead of sitting right beside the blonde Slytherin, Tobias took a seat on the floor. They both stared into the fire—trying to sort out whatever feelings they had towards each other.

"I know she meant well." Tobias said, breaking the silence. "But…seeing that broom…it was like everything was falling into place again. And when I was in the air, Draco…there were no dementors, no Sirius Black, no Heir of the Dark Lord. It was just me. Now it's gone. Do you know what that feels like?"

"Yeah." Draco answered softly, though his mind was somewhere else. "I do."

He thought about Hermione, and how nothing else matter when he was with her. There was no Malfoy feud, no pureblood honor code, no expectations. It was just him and her against the world. She was always the best part of him—she always brought out the best part of him. And now she was gone.

He also thought about Tobias, his cousin and ex-bestfriend, and how there was this feeling of peace every time they were together. No matter what was happening—even if it felt like the world was going to fall apart—Draco knew that if he had Tobias by his side, everything was going to be alright. From the Third-Floor corridor to the Chamber of Secrets, there was no doubt in Draco's mind that they wouldn't make it out okay.

"I should have told you about your father." He said suddenly, not even realizing the words had come out of his mouth. And once he did, he found himself staring into the green eyes of his cousin.

"All this time I thought I was protecting you, but I was protecting myself. I was afraid that if you knew, especially now, that you would go after Black yourself…and that Black would kill you. But that was selfish of me, and I'm sorry."

Tobias nodded. "I know." He then sighed. "I don't know if I forgive you or not…but this is a start. You're still my family. Nothing could change that. Just…no more secrets."

"No more secrets." Draco said, though he held on to those words like a vow.

"Which means I must tell you this," The other heir said, turning back to the fire. And from the way Tobias said it, Draco knew he had to brace himself.

"I am going to kill Sirius Black, Draco. Theo and I are devising a plan, and my mother gave me the curse to finish the deed. Sirius Black killed my father, and I'm going to return the favor. And there's nothing you can say to stop me, so don't try."

Draco wanted to look at Tobias as if he was mad. _Killing Sirius Black?_ It sounded like a suicide mission, even with Theodore at his side. But he knew that if Tobias had his mind set on something, he wouldn't let it go until he saw it through. He also knew that he couldn't let Tobias do this alone—he knew that if he was by Tobias's side, and that Tobias was on his side, that everything would be alright. That maybe they would have a chance. It was time to make up for what he did.

"I won't try to stop you," He said. "but I do have one thing to ask."

Tobias turned back to look at him, surprised to see a mischievous smirk on the Malfoy heir's face.

"Is there room for one more?"

* * *

Hermione knew she wasn't supposed to be outside of Gryffindor Tower this time of night, but she needed to think. She needed to cry. She needed to sort through all the emotions that were running through her body. She didn't want to leave the Astronomy Tower until she felt like herself again, but she knew she wouldn't.

But she had to at least try.

She felt like a horrible friend. Tobias's and Pansy's faces of betrayal and disappointed were etched into her memory, and Hermione couldn't deny that her own heart broke when she heard the words coming out of McGonagall's mouth. She wanted to believe and trust that she was doing the right thing, but it felt sickening. It all felt wrong.

Maybe she should have listened to Draco when he told her to stay out of it. Maybe she should have listened to Blaise when he also agreed. But, of course, she couldn't. It wasn't in her nature. It wasn't like Hermione Granger to just allow her friends to be in danger. She wouldn't forgive herself had something happened to Tobias and she knew she could have done something to stop it. She cared about all her friends. Tobias, Draco, Neville, Ron, Theodore, and Pansy. She would do anything for them.

So why did anything feel so horrible?

The Gryffindor witch couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks. She couldn't hold in her sobs. She brought her hand to her chest, gripping the time-turner McGonagall had given her at the beginning of the term. She knew she could only use to get to her classes, but a deep tempting feeling called to her—daring her to change time, to make none of this ever happen.

She wanted to believe she had done the right thing—she felt it in her heart. But in this moment, everything felt so wrong. She had never seen Tobias so angry with her. He was her first friend, and she couldn't help but feel as if she had lost his friendship for good. She desperately wanted him to understand why she had done it—why she had told McGonagall about the Firebolt. But another part of her, a part of her that was winning, told her that she should've just kept her damn mouth shut.

That all this pain would be spared if she had just left the situation alone.

So, unable to fight it any longer, Hermione turned the time turner once. She closed her eyes, seeing herself standing in front of McGonagall's office just hours before, preparing to tell her everything about Tobias's broom.

She turned it twice. She walked towards the door, uncertain and afraid—knowing the consequences of her actions. The friends she would upset, the ridicule she would have to bear.

She turned it again. The thoughts rushing through her head, her mind racing. She lifted her hand to knock on the Professor's door.

She turned the time turner once more. Could she do it? She saw how much that broom meant to Tobias. She saw that it meant everything to him—everyone saw it the minute he laid eyes on it. How could she take it away from him like that?

She prepared to turn it one last time. She would make it right.

"HERMIONE, STOP!" someone screamed.

She tried to ignore it, but hesitated as she recognized the voice. In her hesitation, that familiar someone grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. She dropped her hands from the time turner, sobbing into his robe.

"It's alright." Blaise said softly. "It's alright."

Blaise felt the witch grab on to his robes tighter. He was barely sleeping when his Time Master went haywire, and there was only one other person in the castle who could make it do that. He followed the strength of the vibrations, hoping that it would lead him to wherever Hermione was. Blaise began to worry when the vibrations of his Time Master led him away from Gryffindor Tower. He didn't even realize that he was heading towards the Astronomy Tower until he reached the top of the steps. He had to get to her—he had to get to Hermione before it was too late.

That's when he burst through the door screaming for her to stop, and as she hesitated, he grabbed hold of her. Even if she did make the final turn, he would be with her—and he could bring her back. Stopping her from making a terrible mistake.

When Hermione finally stopped crying, she spoke for the first time since he found her.

"We have to go back, Blaise," she said. "We have to go back in fix it."

He shook his head. "No." His voice was definite. "You're stronger than this. Smarter than this. If LeStrange doesn't understand why you did it, then that's his fault. You were trying to protect your friend. That's all that matters."

"But you didn't see their faces!" The witch cried. "I feel sick…I feel horrible."

"And you'll push through. Hermione Granger always pushes through."

The girl sighed, grabbing hold of the time turner once more, but she didn't activate it. "What's the point of having these if we can't use it for what we want?"

"The last time I changed what someone _wanted_ me to change," Blaise chuckled. "we ended up here. In an alternate timeline. And I regret it. I regret that I wasn't strong enough to say no. I just wanted to be something—to feel like someone."

He then looked at her, and his brown eyes met hers. "I felt weak. Time travel isn't the answer, Hermione, it's an escape. And you're stronger than that."

 _You're stronger than that._ The words echoed in Hermione's head. She had been so distracted by Tobias's reaction, that she had lost sight of her true nature. She was never the one to run from a fight, but in that moment, her spirit broke. It was so broken that she was going to change time—to escape this pain. She was willing put her friend in danger, just so she wouldn't have to see his face when the time came. That wasn't her. She was stronger than that.

* * *

With the morning sunrise came a familiar smell. A familiar smell that Quirrell knew all too well. But it had been years since he had seen the person who the smell belonged to. 12 years exactly. And that could mean only one thing. That this person was in his home…right now.

He sat up quickly, reaching for his wand so he could cast his curse, but he soon realized that his wand was not where he had laid it the night before. He looked across his bed, finding it in the hands of his latest intruder.

"Looking for this?" Sirius said, a whimsical smile on his face. He twirled Quirrell's wand through his fingers. Black was sitting Indian-style on the edge of Quirrell's bed. And he looked mighty comfortable.

 _Too comfortable._ Quirrell thought.

The smile was soon wiped from Sirius's face when the wand was snatched from his hand, landing directly in the palm of its owner. The ex-con seemed amused, however, seeing that he had forgotten that his adversary was skilled in wandless magic.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Quirrell sneered.

"Ever heard of locking your doors at night?" Sirius retorted. "It's quite dangerous, you know? Somebody might sneak in—somebody like, I don't know, and Azkaban escapee."

"Point taken." The other man said. "What do you want, Sirius?"

At the question, all playfulness went away. Sirius then remembered the mission he had be given by the Order. To convince Quirinus to help them. To help them return time to what it once was.

"The Order needs your help, Quirrell."

Quirrell rolled his eyes. "Not this bullshit again." Not wanting to hear another word, Quirrell laid back down, pulling the covers over his head. But Sirius would not let him sleep, pulling the covers off.

"Sirius, I will tell you like I've told the others. I'm not doing it. There is nothing wrong with this timeline!"

Sirius frowned. "Oh really? Nothing's wrong? Quirinus, the Dark Lord is dead. Tobias LeStrange wants to kill me. Lucius Malfoy is literally planning Armageddon. Azkaban is destroyed along with everyone in it. Dementor attacks are increasing. Should I go on?"

Quirrell didn't answer. He felt the weight fall on his shoulders as Sirius listed all the things that were definitely wrong with this timeline. He wanted to ignore it all. He wanted to believe that all this would have happened anyway. Alternate or not. But things were getting worse—and he truly hated that everything depended on him.

"I know you're afraid." Sirius continued. "I know what will happen to you if you agree to do this, but it isn't like you haven't sacrificed yourself for the greater good before."

The man scoffed. " _Greater good?_ The greater good got my leg broken and lost me my job—over a fucking child! Now here we are again, risking everything for this another fucking kid—and this time it won't be my leg…or my job! It'll be my life, Sirius! And possibly yours."

"And mine?"

"Do you even know if you're alive in the original timeline? Who's to say you even break out of Azkaban? You could be stuck there forever. But here, you're free Sirius. You're willing to risk your freedom for that?"

"I'm willing risk it for the people I care about." Sirius responded.

"Well, the people I care about are dead." Said Quirrell. He got up from his bed, feeling the ache in his heart as he thought about his mother. He didn't even both to look at the next room—where her blood still stained the carpet.

Sirius followed him to the kitchen, where he found the man fixing himself a glass of firewhiskey. Quirrell then discarded the bottle, tossing it in a pile where dozens of liquor bottles lay- empty.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your mother." Said the ex-con. "But if she was here…"

"She would tell me the same thing that you're telling me right now." The other man shot back, taking a swig. "And I told her 'No' as well."

Sirius frown went even deeper. "She could still be alive, Quirinus. In the original-"

"She's dead there too. Except Dumbledore couldn't tell me how she died."

"So you rather live here…without her? Instead of with her…in peace?"

Quirrell downed the rest of his firewhiskey. This was the question that had been battering him for some time. Of course, he wanted to be with his mother—but it just didn't feel that simple. He didn't know what was holding him back. And the more he thought about it, the sicker he felt.

"Get out." Were his last words. He then walked out of his kitchen and into the room he had first ignored on his way there. He closed it quietly. Silence.

Sirius stood in the kitchen alone, wondering what had happened to the once strong and formidable Quirinus Quirrell. The answer came quickly. He was broken. And he knew all too well how hard it was for broken men to find strength.

But if he could find the strength to break out of Azkaban, Quirrell could find that same strength, too.

"I'm not giving up on you, old friend." He said. Sirius then transformed into his dog form, finding a nice spot on the floor. He kept his eyes on the room Quirrell had retreated to—waiting for the man to come out.

* * *

Draco had never seen Marcus Flint this angry, and if he had, the blonde Slytherin had tried his best to avoid it. But tonight, it was unavoidable.

" _What?_!" Flint roared. "McGonagall took LeStrange's _Firebolt?_ Am I hearing this correctly?"

"That's what the Greengrass girl is telling everyone." Adrian Pucey answered.

"FOR WHAT?!"

"Something about that Granger girl saying that he may have gotten it from Sirius Black. They're checking it for jinxes."

Flint looked like a mad man. "Black is on the run. Can somebody tell me how in Salazar's name he could have found time to buy a _Firebolt_ and deliver it to Hogwarts?"

Alex spoke next. "That's what everyone is asking, but apparently he found a way." She then looked towards Draco. "Do you know when he'll be able to know if he can fly it again?"

"McGonagall didn't say." The blonde Slytherin said, disappointment in his voice. "She isn't answering any questions about Tobias's broom. Theodore and I already tried."

"Ravenclaw game is coming up." Flint gritted through his teeth. "And the best seeker in the whole bloody school DOESN'T HAVE A BROOM! He can't ride a Shooting Star against Ravenclaw. We'll be the laughing stock of the school!"

He then got up, grabbing his robe. The whole team watched him storm towards the door, grumbling to himself.

"…Snape will do something about this…fucking McGonagall…who does she think she is…she just wants Gryffindor to win the bloody Quidditch cup…we'll see about that…AND SOMEBODY FIND OUT WHERE LESTRANGE IS!"

The door slammed behind him, and the rest of the team grew silent. Draco looked around the classroom, noticing that his cousin wasn't in attendance for the Quidditch meeting. He had been so wrapped up in Flint's anger, he didn't dare focus his attention anywhere else.

But where was Tobias?

* * *

"What's that?" Tobias asked.

"Another boggart." Lupin said. They two met as planned that Thursday night in the History of Magic classroom. Lupin arrived a couple minutes late, but Tobias soon realized that his tardiness was due to the large packing case he was dragging with him.

"I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real dementor. As we've already seen, the boggart will turn into a dementor when he sees you, which makes him perfect to practice on. And I'll be able to store him in my office when we're not using him." He then laughed to himself. "There's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

Tobias nodded, not necessarily caring for the details. Only the parts where Lupin said that this creature wasn't a real dementor.

Once Professor Lupin found a good spot to lay the case, he walked over to where Tobias was standing and withdrew his wand. The lesson had begun.

"Now, the spell that I am going to teach you is highly advanced magic, Tobias." The professor said. "This is well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level magic. Even with your skill and training it can be hard to master. It is called the Patronus Charm."

Tobias nodded again. He had heard of a Patronus Charm before, but he never seen anyone do it. Not Snape. Not his grandfather. No one. He was starting to believe that maybe Lupin had been bluffing about it being advanced magic. If it was so advanced, why hadn't he seen the greatest Dark Wizard in the world do it?

"What happens when you cast it?" Tobias asked.

Lupin smiled. "Well…when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus. Which is a type of anti-dementor. It will serve as a guardian between you and the dementor. Or dementors."

Tobias immediately pictured a vision of his Grandfather standing between him and a band of dementors. Everyone was scared of the Lord Voldemort—he would serve as a perfect guardian for this charm.

"Now before we start using the spell, you need to understand the theory behind it." Lupin continued. "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon—hope, happiness, the desire to survive—but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it."

"Each Patronus is unique to the wizard that conjures it. Only in certain cases, may two people share the same Patronus."

"So how do I conjure one?" Tobias asked, his wand buzzing eagerly in his robes. The Slytherin couldn't deny that he was excited as well. He was ready to defend himself from the dementors.

"With an incantation, of course." Lupin answered. "But it will only work if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

And that's when all of Tobias's eagerness for this task went away. Happy memories? Everything that had happened to him so far was nowhere near happy. His friends splitting apart. Him finding out the truth about his father. His grandfather dying. His mother barely acknowledging his presence. And now his Firebolt. How on Earth was he going to find a happy memory to cast a Patronus?

"The incantation is this— _Expecto Patronum!"_

Tobias took a deep breath, repeating the incantation. " _Expecto Patronum!"_

"Good. Good." Lupin said. "Now focus on your happiest memory."

Tobias closed his eyes, trying to pick through his memories to find the happiest one. Not wanting to make Lupin wait too long, he settled on the memory when he first rode a broom. It was the first thing at Hogwarts that made him feel welcomed. He was the first LeStrange ever to master the art of broomstick riding and it was the same day he was put on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

" _Expecto Patronum."_ He said. And when Tobias opened his eyes, he saw something whoosh out of his wand. A wisp of slivery gas.

"Wicked." Tobias said in amazement.

"Wicked, indeed." Professor Lupin said smiling. "Right then—ready to try it on a dementor?"

Tobias nodded, tightening his grip on his wand. He moved to the middle of the classroom, right where Lupin had left the boggart-filled packing case. He closed his eyes once more, trying to focus on broomstick flying. But the idea of facing the dementor tore into his memory—and with it brought something awful.

The last time he had faced a dementor, he heard a woman screaming. He was sure it was the voice of Lily Potter—the woman who had been defending her son against his grandfather. His grandfather, who was going to kill her if she didn't step aside. He tried not to think about it, because he knew that he would heard the voice of Lily Potter again. And he didn't want to.

He opened his eyes just as Professor Lupin opened the case. Tobias braced himself as the dementor slowly rose out of the box. Its hooded face leveled itself with Tobias's and began to hover towards him. Tobias stood frozen until the feeling of coldness crept into his chest.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ He screamed. _"Expecto Patronum! Expecto…_ "

But the room began to be swallowed in darkness, and so did his view of the dementor. Tobias tried to fight it, but it was no use. He began to hear her again— _"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—"_

Tobias tried to scream back. To let the woman know she wasn't alone.

 _"Stand aside!"_ He heard his grandfather yell back. _"Stand aside, girl!"_

"Tobias!" Screamed another voice. "Tobias!"

The Slytherin's eyes popped back open, and he found himself lying flat on his back in the middle of the History of Magic classroom. He already knew what had happened. The dementor had gotten to him—he had failed.

"You alright?" Lupin asked, handing him a Chocolate Frog.

"I'm fine." The boy answered fiercely, denying the chocolate. He stood up, aiming his wand once more at the case. "I want to go again."

The professor frowned. "You heard her again didn't you. The woman?"

Tobias didn't answer. He didn't want to answer.

"Tobias, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand—"

"I want to go again." Tobias said, his voice was definite and Lupin knew he could not convince him otherwise.

"Very well." Said Lupin. "But you will need to choose another memory. Something stronger than the last."

Tobias closed his eyes and searched through his memories. He decided on the memory of winning his first Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game. He caught the snitch at the last moment, and even though he almost swallowed it—he felt great. Everyone was cheering his name and he wanted to live in that moment forever. It was the happiest game he ever played.

He opened his eyes.

"Ready?" asked Professor Lupin.

Tobias nodded. "Ready, professor."

The Professor opened the box once more, and the dementor seeped out. Tobias braced himself once more, determined to conjure his Patronus.

 _"Expecto Patronum!"_ He roared. _"Expecto Pat—"_

But the darkness caught up with him, and the icy cold air went even deeper into his veins. The darkness then turned to white fog. The classroom surroundings disappeared and Tobias was now seeing blurs all around him. He thought he would hear the woman's voice again…maybe even see her. But this time—this time it was a man's voice.

 _"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—"_

Tobias tried to listen for more, but a laughter drowned out the man. A high-pitched cackle of laughter that Tobias knew all too well. Next were the sounds of a door bursting and someone stumbling into a room. But the laughter never faded.

"Tobias! Tobias…wake up…"

Tobias jerked himself up, he grabbed his wand immediately, aiming it towards… _the History of Magic classroom?_ Tobias soon remembered where he was—he had failed once again. He felt sick on the inside. He knew whose voice he was hearing this time. It had to be. Tobias had heard the voice of James Potter.

"I heard him." Tobias said, looking into Lupin's eyes. "Lily Potter's husband."

Professor Lupin froze. "James?" He whispered. His voice was strange, as if he knew him.

"You knew him?" Tobias asked, trying not to push any limits.

The professor nodded, falling next to Tobias. They both stared at the bookcases while Lupin spoke. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Me, James…listen, Tobias—I think that we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced…I shouldn't have suggested—"

Tobias stood up, and, once more, aimed his wand at the packing case. "One more time, Professor."

"Tobias…"

"I'm just not thinking of a memory that's good enough. I'll have it this time. I won't fail."

He closed his eyes once more, pushing through all his happy memories. The memory he chose was when he took Pansy riding on his Firebolt. It was the first time he had felt free in a long time. He remembered how happy it made him to be on a broomstick again, and Pansy's smile lighting his way. There was no one else but them. He was sure that nothing would break this.

"Ready when you are, professor." He said, clear and confident.

Professor Lupin opened the case for the last time, and the dementor took no time to take flight towards him. Tobias felt the darkness creeping in, the cold air seeping into his heart, but Tobias concentrated harder on his memory.

 _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ He shouted. _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

He heard the screams once more, both Lily and James Potter. He heard his Grandfather's laughter and his voice screaming back at them. But the harder Tobias concentrated on his memory, the softer the screams became. He could still see the dementor floating above him, but there was something else to. A huge, silver shadow floated between him and the dementor, who didn't move any further. Tobias laughed in triumph. He had done it.

 _"Riddikulus!"_ Professor Lupin screamed.

There was a loud crack, and the dementor vanished. Professor Lupin closed the packing case, sitting on top of it for good measure. Tobias's Patronus had disappeared along with the dementor. He then found himself extremely tired—as if the Patronus had drained all the magic and energy out of him. His legs felt like jelly.

"That was excellent Tobias!" Lupin said excitedly. "Not where we need to be, but it's definitely a start!"

"One more go, professor!" Tobias said, though his body argued against it.

"Not now." Lupin said, though Tobias could tell he appreciated his determination. "You've had enough for one night. Here…"

Instead of the Chocolate Frog, he offered Tobias a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Make sure you eat a lot of it," He instructed. "or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

"Yes sir." Tobias said quickly. He took no time to open the bar of chocolate, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. But something stopped him, something that Professor Lupin had admitted before.

"Professor?" Tobias asked.

"Hm?"

"If you knew James Potter, that means you must have known my cousin as well—Sirius Black?"

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "What gives you that idea?" He said sharply, and Tobias was starting to get the feeling that he had overstepped his boundaries.

"I heard that the two were friends at Hogwarts, too."

"Ah yes," The Professor's face had relaxed. "I knew him. Or I thought I did. But it's getting late, Tobias. You should be getting to bed."

Tobias nodded, though he wanted to say something else. He left the History of Magic classroom and made his way towards the Slytherin Dungeons. Part of him wished he hadn't asked Lupin about Sirius Black. But another part of him wanted to know more about his murderous cousin. Maybe it would give him some idea on how to defeat him.

He took another bite of his chocolate bar and let his thoughts take him away.

* * *

Malfoy Manor. Home to Malfoys ever since the beginning of time. And through its years, it was home to people with astonishing qualities and outstanding feats. And today, it would hold on to another accomplishment. It was now the headquarters of the Dark Lord's Kingdom.

Of course, we all know whose idea it was to switch the Death Eater base from LeStrange Manor to Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy—who was relishing in the fact that his plan was moving smoothly, and that before the year was out, he would be in full control of the Black Market and the Ministry of Magic. Everyone would be eating out of the palm of his hands—as they should.

Tonight, everyone gathered for this ceremonious occasion, for Lucius to finally take his place as the "new Lord Voldemort."

The event took place in the Malfoy courtyard, where guests dressed in their best black suits and black dresses. To be seated at one of the cleanest glass tables they've ever seen, and to be served the most delicious and richest wine in all of Europe. The house elves were on their best behavior, attending to everyone's request with absolute perfection. Today was a new day—the tides were changing. This would be a new beginning.

"Could I have everyone's attention?"

Lucius Malfoy stood amongst his guests, smiling as he met eyes with a full house. He wore a black, perfectly tailored suit from Italy with a black dinner vest and a green and silver striped tie to match. He stood with his snake hilted cane in his hand—looking like the son of Salazar Slytherin himself. Complete Perfection.

On his left, stood his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, and her sister, Bellatrix LeStrange. They looked absolutely stunning, but Bellatrix was the subject of all conversation, seeing as she had just been broken out of Azkaban a month before. Nobody had seen or heard of her in twelve years.

On his right, stood Bartemius Crouch Jr. and Marcus Goyle. The two men wore a suit similar to Lucius's, but was made to be sure it wouldn't overshadow the blonde-haired man. Crouch Jr. felt his blood boil as he watched Lucius stand there with so much pride. _Cheat._ He thought. But he let his anger settled, especially with the view he had. He could see his love, Bellatrix LeStrange, looking as beautiful as ever in her black dress. Even though they were at odds, he had to admit that the talk was true—she did look stunning.

"Many years ago, I was just your average child." Lucius said. "I was exploring my magic, learning how to control it and learning the history behind it. And like a child, I had no plans. I was walking through my life, no plans—no destiny. It wasn't until my fifth year at Hogwarts, that my father, Abraxas Malfoy, introduced me to the Dark Lord. And it was then, that my destiny and my purpose was born."

Crouch Jr. looked out into the crowd, seeing the head nods of approval and remembrance. He could see the nostalgia in their eyes—whether it was destiny like Lucius described it, or a nightmare. No matter how they met, the Dark Lord left a mark in everyone's life. And that's what Lucius wanted. That control.

"It was a calling and I answered it. From that moment on, I did whatever it took to make sure the Dark Lord's name rang through the mist. I moved through the ranks, I made the hard decisions. And it has brought me here. For on his death bed, the Dark Lord sealed another piece into my destiny. The keys to his Kingdom. And tonight, I finalize that calling."

Applause echoed through the courtyard. Some stood, some shed tears, others sat- hard as stone.

"Tonight, we start a new Chapter in this book our Master has left us with. The world will know our names! They will know his name! I will make sure of it!"

The applause grew louder, and to keep up their act, Crouch Jr. and Goyle found themselves clapping alongside everyone else. Only they knew the trouble that surrounded Lucius's words. Only they knew that everything would be worse than it was before. Yet Lucius Malfoy made it seem so promising, so perfect. Glass tables and rich wine. Beautiful music and white snow. Complete Perfection.

"For Magic is Might!" Lucius said finally, raising his glass to his audience.

"For Magic is Might!" They all said in return.

The dinner began, and everyone was either eating or talking away with someone at their table. Crouch Jr. and Goyle made their retreat to the bar, where a house elf was serving drinks.

"Lucius sure knows how to excite a crowd." Goyle said, taking a swig from his glass. "Have you heard from Snape?"

Crouch Jr. ran his finger around the rim of his glass. "The Order has Kingsley, Tonks, and Mad-Eye checking through all the files at the Ministry, but Malfoy seems to have covered all his bases."

"Patience. He'll slip up soon enough. He wouldn't be Lucius Malfoy if he didn't."

"But how long?" The other man growled. "This dinner? It's to rally support. The bigger he becomes, the harder it will be to tear him down."

Goyle took another swig. "Which means this is a big risk for him too, meaning that if he does slip up—which he will—it will corrupt everything he just said up on that stage."

Crouch Jr. growled again. He didn't like this waiting game. Lucius didn't belong on that stage, and the longer they waited, the more the image would stick. Lucius Malfoy being above everyone. It was a disgusting feeling.

"Just enjoy the party." Said his companion. "You do have an image to keep up, remember? The Heir of the Throne and all."

Seeing that Goyle was right, Crouch Jr. set down his glass in headed into the crowd of snakes. He only wanted to talk to one person, but found himself conversing with multiple people. Those telling him congrats on his position and asking about Tobias's training. But Crouch only wanted to get to the opposite end of the Courtyard.

"The last time I saw you in a dress this beautiful, was the Christmas ball at Hogwarts." He said charmingly, coming face to face with Bellatrix.

The witch didn't seem amused. "And the last time I saw you this dapper, was dinner a few days ago. Where you accused me of child manipulation."

She proceeded to walk away, but the wizard was quicker. He pulled her to him, putting them in a position where it looked as if they were dancing.

"I wanted to apologize for that." He said, his voice still calm. "I didn't know your intentions."

"Well, you know what they say about assumers." Bellatrix smiled, seeing that Crouch didn't know. "They get killed."

He chuckled. "But honestly, you look beautiful tonight."

"This old drag? Cissa picked it out. Said I needed to dress the part."

"The part of what?"

Bellatrix smiled again, and Crouch found himself out of the loop on more than he thought. "As the Heir of the Throne's lady, of course."

The wizard blinked—did he hear correctly? Did Bellatrix LeStrange just call herself his "lady"?

"So that means…"

"Yes, Bartemius Crouch Jr., it means exactly that. I accept your proposal."

The witch pulled him into a long and meaningful embrace that he didn't want to escape from. But, unbeknownst to him, Bellatrix's embrace had an ulterior motive. The witch made eye contact with another wizard across the room, and nodded in confirmation that her deed had been done.

And from across the Courtyard, her message had been received. The receiver? Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

February arrived and the Ravenclaw match was coming closer and closer. And Tobias LeStrange still had no broom. It wasn't like he couldn't just order another one, but he wanted _his_ Firebolt—and he hoped that McGonagall would give up and just admit that there was nothing wrong with his broom.

"No, Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott, Tobias cannot have his broom back yet." Professor McGonagall said sternly. She closed the door on them for the twelfth time that week.

Draco and Theodore walked around the corner where Tobias was waiting for them.

"What did she say?" Tobias asked, though he already knew the answer.

"No luck, pal." Said Theodore.

"Just write to your mother and ask her to send you your old Nimbus Two Thousand." Draco suggested. "At least to practice with. You can barely do the plays with that Shooting Star."

Tobias shook his head, gathering his bag and heading down the corridor. "No. That's what Ravenclaw has. And I'm not trying to be as good as Ravenclaw, I want to be better."

And that was the end of that. The three Slytherins continued their walk down the castle corridors to the Slytherin Dungeons. But with Theodore being Theodore, he couldn't stay silent for long.

"How have your anti-dementor lessons been going?" the boy asked. "You ready to kick some dementor ass?"

Tobias frowned again. "Not exactly. If anything, I feel like I'm getting worse. I keep making this silvery cloud instead of a full Patronus. Professor Lupin said I'm expecting too much out of myself."

"As always," Draco teased. "But what is it like? Casting a Patronus Charm?"

"It's like—imagine the happiest you've ever felt…and then putting it into a spell. It's like a guardian, you know when you see it, everything is going to be okay."

Theodore scrunched his nose up. "So like punching Zabini in his nose?"

"Not exactly," The boy laughed. "It has to be strong enough to cast a true Patronus. But I can't find the right memory to make one."

Draco smirked. "Have you tried to memory where you kissed Parkinson? _Oomf._ "

Draco's teasing came to an end once Tobias punched him in his shoulder. "I've actually tried that one. It was strong— _shut up, Malfoy_ —but it wasn't strong enough. I don't know, but I've tried everything."

"Well, what are you going to do at the Quidditch Match?" Theodore asked. "What if the dementors return?"

"Professor Lupin said I learned enough to defend myself at the game—but I'll have to work harder if I want to make a true Patronus."

Theodore nodded. "Did he tell you about the Dementor's Kiss?"

"The what?" Tobias asked.

"Dementor's Kiss." Draco said. "It's what the dementors do when they want to destroy someone utterly. I heard my father talking about it once with Fudge. Supposedly, the dementors have a mouth under their hoods, but the only people who have seen them are complete vegetables."

Tobias frowned. "They're dead?"

"Oh, heavens no." Theodore pitched in. "But they probably wish they were. The way my father explained it to me—you can still exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self, no memories, no happy feelings…nothing. You're just there."

"A vegetable." Draco agreed. "No chance of recovery. Your soul is just gone. Lost forever."

Tobias swallowed, now even more afraid of the dementors. "Is this to motivate me to hurry up and conjure a true Patronus."

"Hmmm…yes," Theodore said, pulling something out of his bag. "And then there's this."

He handed Tobias this morning's _Daily Prophet._ Tobias read the front page quickly. The Ministry had given the dementors permission to conduct the Dementor's Kiss on Sirius Black.

"We're running out of time." Draco said. "If the dementors get to Black first, you'll have no chance of getting to him. And even if you did, Black wouldn't recognize you."

Tobias sighed. How were they supposed to find Black when the whole country was looking for him? He could be literally anywhere. If only Tobias knew how Black had gotten into the castle the first time, he could create a trap. Then, a light bulb flashed above him. Maybe he could still make a trap.

He didn't speak any more about Sirius Black or his plan until the three reached their dormitory in the Slytherin Dungeons. He then explained it to Draco and Theodore.

"You remember Halloween…when Sirius Black broke in?" Tobias said quickly. "Dumbledore said he was after the Sword of Gryffindor."

"Yeah." Theodore said, greatly confused. "But Dumbledore then _moved_ the Sword of Gryffindor to his office, so unless you want us to break into Dumbledore's office…"

Tobias ignored him. "Sirius Black will only come to the castle if it has something he wants."

"So," Draco was now catching on, "We need to find something that Sirius Black wants, something that will make him come back to the castle."

"And how are we going to do that?" asked Theodore. "It's not like we can owl him a letter. 'Dear Mr. Mass Murderer, we have something you want. Love, your killers.'"

Tobias then smirked. "We can't write him a letter. But we do know someone who can get news across the school faster than the Prophet."

Theodore looked puzzled at first, but then caught on. "Oh no."

"Oh yes." Draco nodded. "Daphne can get the rumor out to Durmstrang if she wanted to. No doubt Sirius Black would hear about it and come to back Hogwarts."

"And then he would have to sneak in the school again," said Tobias. "Sneaking past the dementors once more, and we would have him right where we want him."

"Okay," Theodore said, comprehending the plan entirely. "But I still have one more question."

Draco raised a brow. "And that is?"

"What else is in Hogwarts that Sirius Black wants?"

* * *

"Arithmancy looks terrible, Hermione," Neville said, looking at all of Hermione's homework compared to his. "Are you sure you don't want to drop a couple subjects?"

Neville noticed that Hermione had seemed a bit—too involved—with her studies lately. She needed exactly a whole table to hold all her parchment and books. Ron was also supposed to be doing homework, but he had to go give Scabbers his tonic first.

"Oh, no, it's wonderful!" Hermione said earnestly. "It's honestly my favorite subject! It's—"

But Hermione didn't finish her sentence, and Neville soon found out why. There was the loud clattering of footsteps upstairs, and they grew louder as someone was approaching the common room. The rest of the students went quiet until they met the culprit of all the noise.

Ron Weasley.

"LOOK!" He roared, holding a dingy bedsheet in his hand. He stormed over to the table where Hermione and Neville were sitting. His face was a deep and angry red, and Hermione had to ask herself had she done anything else horrible this week.

"LOOK!" Ron screamed again, this time shaking the sheets right in the witch's face.

Hermione smacked them away. "Ron, what-?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

The Gryffindor witch looked confused. There was no sign of Scabbers on that sheet, so she wasn't sure what Ron was going on about. But Neville, always the observant, looked down at the sheet, and noticed that it wasn't _just_ dingy. There was also something red on it. Something that looked a lot like—

"BLOOD!" Ron roared once more, causing everyone in the Gryffindor common room to jump. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS GONE?!"

Hermione didn't know if she wanted to answer of not. "N-No." Her voice was trembling.

"YOUR CAT!" The boy yelled back, slamming something down onto Hermione's homework. Neville leaned forward, noticing the type of fur. They were long, ginger cat hairs—the same color as Crookshanks, Hermione's cat.

Hermione then grabbed a hold of herself. "You think my cat did that?!"

"I don't think, Hermione!" Ron argued back. "I know it did this! You never took that mangy feline serious, but I always knew it was after Scabbers! And now look!"

"Crookshanks did not _eat_ your rat, Ron! It probably died from how old it was!"

Ron threw down the bed sheet. "Scabbers was getting better!"

"Come on, Ron," Neville said. "We barely have any proof that Hermione's cat ate Scabbers."

" _Proof_?! Neville, weren't you the one who told me that you caught Crookshanks trying to break into the boy's dormitory on the day of the first Quidditch match?"

Hermione turned to look at Neville, and the boy felt horribly ashamed. It was true, that Crookshanks was trying to sneak into the boy's dormitory, but he didn't know that Ron would try to use it against him.

"You too, Neville?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and disappointed.

Neville didn't know what to say. "I mean…he did chase Scabbers out of the pet shop the day you first got him Hermione. Maybe Scabbers lost the race this time."

"Unbelievable." The witch said shrilly. "Fine, side with Ron, I knew you would! First, the Firebolt, now Scabbers. It's like everything is my fault, isn't it?!"

She began to pack up her homework. Her parents had sent her a bigger bag to put all her things in, so she had no problem squeezing all those books in her bag. Once placing the last book inside, Hermione left the Gryffindor common room, no doubt heading for the library. Neville felt guilty, wishing he hadn't told Ron about the Quidditch match, but he couldn't help his feelings that he also thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers.

Ron picked up his bed sheet, and returned upstairs. Once the door slammed to his room, the whispers and conversations began about the previous argument. Some people agreed that Crookshanks ate Scabbers, while others thought of Crookshanks as a nice cat who would never do any harm to Ron's rat. But Neville had other things on his mind.

He was quite sure that this was the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. And he was standing right in the middle of it.

* * *

The whole "girlfriend" thing was beyond weird for Pansy Parkinson, but she found herself getting used to it. For starters, she had Colin Creevy at her complete will. She thought the boy was LeStrange's errand boy—but turns out, whatever belonged to LeStrange, belonged to her as well. She didn't even have to carry a bookbag anymore. Colin made sure her books and quills were set at her desk before every lesson. It was a girl's dream come true.

She sat in the library, alone—and hopefully not for long. She had finished her Transfiguration essay and her reading for History of Magic. She nothing else to do but wait for her betrothed, who was horribly late.

"Sorry, I'm late." Tobias said quickly, sitting down across from her. "I was helping Draco and Theodore with something."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "And by something, do you mean your plan to murder Sirius Black?"

"Oh please, love," Tobias sneered sarcastically, "Why don't you tell the whole school?"

"Get your drawers out of your arse, LeStrange. There's no one here. I checked."

Tobias looked around, and it was true. There was no one here. Which was surprising. The library was always packed—well not always, but there would at least be a couple of people in here.

"Fine." He admitted. "We were talking about Sirius Black. I've finally figured out a plan to lead him back to Hogwarts."

His girlfriend frowned. "And why do we want Sirius Black to come back to Hogwarts?"

Tobias explained his whole plan to Pansy. Finding the one the thing that Sirius Black wants, getting Daphne to spread the rumor across the school, convincing Black to come back to Hogwarts so that Tobias could trap him, and then getting rid of his murderous cousin for good.

"Well, it looks like you have all your bases covered." Pansy said, sorting through the plan. "But if Dumbledore took the Sword of Gryffindor, what else is there for Black to come back for? Especially if the dementors have kiss-to-kill orders from the Ministry?"

"Haven't figured that out yet." Tobias answered. "But there has to be something. And I think Lupin will provide some solution."

Pansy laughed. "Professor Lupin? Help you? Murder someone?"

"Professor Lupin was also friends with James Potter, remember? The guy Sirius Black also betrayed years ago. Maybe Professor Lupin knows something about Sirius Black that no one else knows. All I have to do is play my cards right, and we'll know. It's the same thing we did to Hagrid our first year."

"Yeah, but the Professor isn't a dolt like Hagrid. He would know if you were trying to use that information against him."

Tobias frowned. "Hagrid isn't a dolt. He just doesn't know when to stop talking. But you should've seen him Pansy, he looked completely out of it when I brought up Sirius Black and James Potter—I could use that to my advantage."

"True," The girl said. "But I still don't like it LeStrange."

"Seriously? The Princess of Manipulation doesn't like my plan of manipulation?"

"I just…I thought you said Lupin couldn't be trusted. What if Lupin lied?"

Tobias seemed confused. "And why would Lupin lie about his friend being murdered by Sirius Black?"

"Not about Potter." Pansy snapped. "About Sirius. You said he looked almost dangerous when you asked him about it the first time, then he…relaxed? When you brought up Potter. What if Lupin really knows something about Sirius that we don't—something that he doesn't want you to know."

Tobias hadn't thought about that. He was so wrapped up in his accomplishment of making a Patronus, that he didn't notice that Professor Lupin did look at little off when he questioned him about Sirius Black. What if he thought that Tobias was about to ask something that was meant to be kept a secret?

"If you try to pry answers out of him," His betrothed continued. "he might catch on."

"How am I supposed to figure out more about Sirius Black, then?" Tobias asked, now disappointed that he couldn't use Lupin for his plan.

"He's your cousin, just ask you mother to send you one of the Sacred 28 Encyclopedias. And while you wait, we are in a library and he is famous—even if it is for murdering thirteen people. There has to be some article or book on him somewhere."

And from there, Pansy and Tobias started their search to find more information on Sirius Black. They looked through books, encyclopedias, newspaper articles—but nothing. Everything they read was what they already knew about Sirius Black. There was nothing to use as bait to bring him back to Hogwarts.

"We've looked through everything." Tobias said tiredly. "I haven't done this much research since Nicolas Flamel."

Pansy didn't hear him. She was too busy flipping through the pages of some book she found.

"What are you looking at?"

"I found an old Hogwarts year book." She answered. "Look I found a picture of James Potter."

Tobias walked over to her side of the table, looking at the picture of James Potter as well. He was a bit tall, and had a stature that hinted that he played Quidditch. He wore glasses and had Jet-Black hair. His hair was also extremely curly and he had hazel eyes.

Pansy smiled. "He kind of looks like you, LeStrange. You know, if you looked like a Gryffindor dork with glasses."

She turned the page. "And here's Sirius Black."

But Tobias had already found him before she made the announcement. Sirius Black looked nothing like the tattooed maniac on the front page of the _Daily Prophet._ He looked cleaner—for the most part. He had the school-boyish charm that reminded Tobias of Blaise Zabini, but had that look of debauchery and mischief that Theo always had. He also had curly black hair but his eyes were grey instead of hazel. Tobias had a feeling that he had seen those eyes before, he just couldn't remember where.

Pansy turned another page, which was covered in photos of friends and group photos from Hogwarts. They recognized none of the people in those photos, but Tobias soon recognized someone. If he wasn't paying attention, he would've missed it.

"Pansy look." He said.

He pointed to the picture, hoping that Pansy would see the same thing he saw. It was a picture of four friends—four Gryffindor boys. They looked as if they were in their fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts. They all had their arms around each other's shoulders, smiling and laughing through the picture.

"That's—" Pansy started to say.

"Sirius Black and Professor Lupin," Tobias finished her sentence, looking at the two boys standing side by side. "Which means that's James Potter and Peter Pettigrew."

"When Professor Lupin said that he knew Sirius Black, I'm assuming he didn't mention this?"

"That they were friends?" Said the boy. "No, he didn't."

Pansy kept her eyes on the picture. "So this is what Lupin is hiding. He was friends, possibly best-friends, with Sirius Black. Which means…"

"Lupin is the bait." Tobias said, his eyes still on the picture of the four boys laughing.

 **Author's Note: Writer's Block is a curse. The next chapter will be up soon.**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review!**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	59. POA21: The Lemon Squeeze - Prt 1

I've been a liar, been a thief

Been a lover, been a cheat

All my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me

Well, little one

I don't want to admit to something

If all it's gonna cause is pain

Truth and my lies right now are falling like the rain

So let the river run

River x Eminem ft. Ed Sheeran

Chapter 59: The Lemon Squeeze - Prt. 1

The next day, instead of meeting in the Great Hall for breakfast, Tobias told Draco and Theodore to meet him the library. He needed to show them the picture of Professor Lupin he and Pansy found last night. He finally understood—this was why Snape didn't approve of Professor Lupin being at Hogwarts. This was why he thought someone in the castle had snuck Sirius Black in. Because Lupin and Black were friends at Hogwarts.

Theodore was the first to respond. "Why do all our Defense Against the Dark Arts professors always have some type of dark secret?"

"If this is what we think it is," said Draco. "How do we know that Lupin isn't setting you up? He could be leading Black right to you."

"Isn't that what we want?" Theodore asked.

Draco shook his head. "In a sense, yes. But then Lupin and Black would have the upper hand."

"Which is why I want to use Lupin as the bait." Said Tobias. "If he and Black are still friends, there's no doubt that Black would return to Hogwarts to save him."

"That's a big if." The blonde Slytherin responded. "And an even bigger risk."

Tobias stared at the yearbook picture, his eyes never leaving the ones of Sirius Black. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. This may be our only chance to get to Black. We have to take it."

"I'm in." Theodore said, a whimsical smirk on his face. "What about you Lord Pratful?"

Draco looked from Tobias and then to Theodore. He already knew he had no choice in the matter, but he couldn't help the red flags that were going off in his head. But there was no stopping his cousin now, especially not with Theodore hyping his every plan. He would just have to make sure neither of them got hurt. That was duty as the oldest anyway.

"Mister LeStrange."

Tobias quickly closed the yearbook photo as he recognized that voice. Draco and Theodore also cleaned up their act as well. Theodore swiftly pulled out a potion's book, hopefully casting the illusion that the three boys were studying.

"I've just been looking for you in the Slytherin Dungeons." Professor McGonagall announced as she reached their table. She was carrying something in her hand, something that made Tobias's heart swell with joy.

His Firebolt.

"Well, here it is," The professor continued. "we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all. You've got a very good friend somewhere, Mister LeStrange…"

"He can have it back?" Theodore asked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously, Mister Nott." And they could've sworn they saw the transfiguration professor smile. She turned to Tobias, handing him the broom. He took it slowly, admiring it as he had when he first saw it. It looked magnificent.

"I daresay you'll need to practice your plays before Saturday's match, won't you? You'll need to beat Ravenclaw if you want to face Gryffindor in the finals."

Professor McGonagall then made her departure, leaving the three Slytherins with the Firebolt.

"You owe somebody an apology." Theodore said in a sing-songy way. He was flipping through the potion's book, but Tobias knew he wasn't reading anything in particular. But it was true, he did owe someone an apology.

Draco laughed. "Good luck with that. And that's coming from someone who's been apologizing since the holidays."

Tobias sighed. It was going to be tough, but hopefully Hermione would forgive him.

* * *

Hermione went straight to Gryffindor Tower after her classes. She wasn't in the mood to eat, especially if it meant hearing Ron complain and moan about Scabbers. The Gryffindor witch was positive that the rat wasn't dead—and if it was, she was absolutely positive it wasn't Crookshanks who'd done it. But she didn't care much to solve the mystery. Ron could believe what he wanted. Hermione didn't have to prove anything to him.

When she reached the top of the steps, she found Neville who was being refused entrance into the tower. The boy was pleading, begging Sir Cadogan to let him in.

"I wrote them down!" Neville cried, digging through his pockets. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"

Sir Cadogan wasn't amused. "A likely tale!" The portrait guardian then spotted Hermione coming up the steps. "Good even, my fair lady. Come and pity this young jester. He is trying to force entry to the chambers within."

Neville turned. Once he saw who Sir Cadogan was referring to, he was unsure if should ask for help of not. But it was worth a try.

"I've lost the passwords." He said miserably. "He keeps changing them, so I asked what passwords he was going to use for the week. And now I've lost my list!"

Hermione sighed. She wasn't particularly fond of Neville right now either. But nevertheless, she decided to help him. They hadn't really spoken since the term resumed, and this was more than a good excuse to talk to him.

"Oddsbodikins." She said primly. She noticed that Sir Cadogan looked extremely disappointed that she decided to help Neville. He reluctantly swung forward, letting the two Gryffindors inside.

When Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room, she noticed that she wasn't the only one who decided to skip dinner. It seemed that Ron also made the choice to skip. He was sitting on the couch in front of the common room fireplace, surrounded by Fred, George, and Ginny.

The witch walked over to the table, where she began to discard the contents of her school bag. However, she couldn't help but overhear what the Weasley siblings were talking about.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," Fred said, testing the waters. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly—the swallow—he probably didn't feel a thing."

Ginny smacked her brother on his neck. " _Fred."_

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron. You said it yourself." George said next.

"He bit Goyle for me once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember the story?"

"Yeah, mate," Fred said, now unable to keep a straight face. "Scabbers's finest hour. Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory."

Ron's frown went even deeper.

"Oh, come on, Ron," said George. "Just get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

Ron had no answer, and the answer never came as the portrait hole to Gryffindor Tower opened once more. Tobias, Theodore, and Draco appeared—becoming the sore thumbs in the sea of red and gold robes. Ron thought that the three had heard the news about Scabbers, but those thoughts went away when he watched them walk towards one of the tables.

The table where Hermione was sitting.

Hermione was halfway into her Muggle Studies essay when something large and wooden was placed on the table. She looked up and recognized the item as Tobias's Firebolt. Her next view was of the three Slytherin boys.

"May we sit?" Tobias asked, an apologetic smile on his face.

Hermione stared at him long and hard, but gave in for the second time tonight. "I supposed so." She flicked her wand, moving a large pile of parchment out of the chairs. Theodore took his seat first, flipping through Hermione's homework papers.

"Hermione, are you sure you don't want to drop a couple classes?" He said. "I've already counted ten pieces of parchment and it's all for the same class."

Draco was looking through another stack, finding the same results. "How are you getting through all this stuff?"

"Oh, well—you know—working hard." The witch responded. Tobias noticed that she looked extremely tired. As tired as Professor Lupin did at times.

"Did you three want something?"

"Ah, yes," Tobias said, coming out of his reverie. "I wanted to apologize, for the way I acted about my Firebolt."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's convenient. When did you think of that? When McGonagall gave you your broom back?"

Tobias cast an eye at Draco, who mouthed a much waited "I told you."

"No," The Slytherin heir said, "I knew you meant well by telling McGonagall about my broom. I've been meaning to apologize since then, but I've been busy…"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Oh I've heard. Planning Sirius Black's death and all."

At those words, Hermione Granger found herself ambushed by the three Slytherins, each one of their hands covering her mouth.

"What the hell, Granger?" Draco said lowly, looking as if his deepest darkest secret had been revealed…again.

Theodore closed his eyes. "Please tell me you didn't tell her, Malfoy."

"I didn't." The other boy growled.

"You two shut up." Tobias barked. He then looked back at Hermione. "How do you know?"

The three Slytherins let go of her mouth, and Hermione frowned as she rubbed their touch off her lips. Theodore's hand reached first, making her taste something salty and sweet.

"I heard you and Pansy talking about it in the library last night." The girl whispered. "Maybe next time you should double check to make sure that _everyone_ is gone."

Tobias felt something twist in his stomach, and it wasn't the fact that Hermione had overheard his and Pansy's conversation. He was now unsure about what Hermione would do with the information. If she would go behind his back about the broom, he was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to tell McGonagall about this.

Hermione rolled her eyes, as if she had read the boy's thoughts. "I'm not going to tell anyone, Tobias. But I don't approve of it—if you wanted to know. Sirius Black is still dangerous, and a plan conceived by three Slytherins won't change that."

The three boys looked at each other, reading in between the lines.

Draco looked at her carefully. "You want in?"

"Yes. But not in the dirty areas. I'm the only one who can find the information you need on Black and Professor Lupin. You'll need me."

"But can we trust you?" Tobias asked. "Nobody can know about this, Hermione."

Theodore laughed. "She said 'dirty areas.'"

The Gryffindor witch raised her right hand. "Scout's honor. Considered yourself forgiven, Tobias LeStrange."

"Then, it's settled." Draco said, "Granger will get us the information we need, and us three will do the heavy lifting."

* * *

On the other side of the Gryffindor common room, Ron was literally shaking in his skin. He was already furious that Tobias, Theodore, and Draco had walked into the tower to speak to Hermione, but the four had been conversing longer than he had anticipated. He became suspicious, especially with the news of Scabbers going around. Maybe the three Slytherins had something to do with it as well. Especially when all three of them jumped to close their hands on Hermione's mouth. She obviously had said something that no one else was supposed to know about.

He waited a bit longer, but he couldn't fight it. He got up from the couch and walked over to the table where the four third-years were sitting. And that's when he heard it.

"Then, it's settled." Malfoy said. "Granger will get us the information we need, and us three will do the heavy lifting."

Ron frowned. "What's going on?"

The four quickly turned to face Ron. Each of them had a face of complete innocence, but Ron was sure that something else was going on.

"Homework, Ronald." Theodore said, lifting up a few pieces of parchment. "It is Thursday."

"It sounds like you all were whispering about something." Ron shot back. " _Heavy lifting?_ Sounds like you all were talking about Scabbers."

Draco made a face of genuine disgust. "Why in Salazar's name would we be talking about your diseased rat, Weasley?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "Draco don't…"

Ron's ears went hot, and his face along with it. "Because Hermione's bloody cat killed him! And I'm starting to feel like you three had something to do with it, too!"

"Like what?" Theodore said. "You think we told Crookshanks to go eat Scabbers? I can't even get my own pet beetle to behave."

Tobias spoke next. "Ron, did you see Crookshanks eat Scabbers?"

"N-no!" The Weasley boy shouted. "But I'm positive that's what happened! That cat's had it out for Scabbers since that day in Diagon Alley."

"Or." Hermione said sternly. "You've been prejudiced against my cat ever since he landed on your hair in the Magical Menagerie!"

"You never bothered to keep a close enough watch on that wretched beast! You keep trying to pretend that he's innocent, but he isn't!"

"Because he is!" Hermione yelled back. "Maybe you just haven't looked hard enough for Scabbers, Ron! Have you looked under the beds in the boys' dormitory?"

Ron scoffed. "For what?! He won't be there. Why don't we dissect your cat and see what's the last thing he ate?!"

"As much as I would love to hear you argue," Draco interrupted, looking extremely irritated. "we were talking to Granger about something, Weasley, and we would like to finish. If it makes you feel better, we can help you look for Scabbers."

"Yeah," Theodore said. "Maybe he's somewhere around the castle."

Ron shook his head. "Of course, side with her. But I'm right." The young wizard then walked away, heading straight to the boys' dormitories. Tobias frowned when he noticed the tears forming in Hermione's eyes.

"He'll get over it." Tobias reassured her. "He's just being stupid. Like I was."

Hermione nodded, wiping the tears out of her eyes. They spent the rest of the night doing their homework—staying as far as possible from any conversations of Sirius Black or Scabbers. It was nice to have Hermione back as a friend, Tobias thought. Now only if he could get Ron and Neville back on board.

He was always at his best when all of his friends were on the same page. But right now, this will have to do.

* * *

Friday brought the last Slytherin Quidditch practice before the game against Ravenclaw. Flint was overjoyed when he saw Tobias with his Firebolt. And Marcus Flint wasn't the only one who was excited about the new broom.

"Look at the balance on it!" Madam Hooch said. "If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail end—you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows—a pity they've stopped making them. I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too—"

"Well, that sounds interesting Madam Hooch," Flint interrupted her, grabbing the broom out of her grasp. He tossed it to Tobias. "But we need to practice."

Madam Hooch went red with embarrassment. "Oh—right—I'll leave you to it then, Mister Flint."

While she took her seat in the stands, practice begun as usual. Flint gave his usual run down of every player on the Ravenclaw team—so everyone knew what to expect tomorrow. He knew the team in and out, not wanting to end up like they did at the last match against Hufflepuff. He knew that the beaters only swung with their left hand, meaning everyone needed to dodge on their right. He knew the keeper was an infamous butterfingers when under pressure, meaning no mercy. He knew the Chasers were riding Cleansweep 5s—so as long as Slytherin had the Quaffle, they wouldn't be able to keep up.

"And the seeker," Flint said, now directing his instructions to Tobias. "You'll be going against Cho Chang. She's a fourth year, and she's pretty good. Not Diggory good, but she plays for keeps. The last few games she's played with a Comet Two Sixty, but her parents just got her a Nimbus Two Thousand for Christmas. Either way, she won't be able to catch up with you, LeStrange."

After the Ravenclaw run down, the team was ready to tackle a few plays. Once Tobias kicked off from the ground, that feeling of freedom and peace returned once more. He zipped through the field, and everyone became a blur. He was flying so fast that when he zipped past Adrian Pucey, the boy almost fell off his broom.

"Bloody hell, that's a fast ass broom." Pucey said.

Tobias then dived towards the field, pulling it just enough where his toes brushed the grass. The control was better than he ever imagined—he was more than ready for tomorrow.

"I'm releasing the snitch, LeStrange!" Flint called out. Like an eagle eyeing its prey, Tobias went into complete sudden death mode when he saw Flint release the snitch.

He darted across the field, racing a bludger on his way to the snitch.

" _…. four…..five….six…"_ He counted in his head. He pushed his broom faster, watching as the snitch came closer and closer.

"….eight…nine…" He gritted through his teeth.

10! And the snitch was caught. The Slytherin team roared in excitement. It was the fastest Tobias had ever caught the snitch in a practice run, and he felt amazing. He let go of the snitch again, given the golden ball a head start before he chased after it again. He spotted it lurking around Alex Darcy's knee. Looping around her with ease, he caught it once more.

It had to be the best practice they ever had. Tobias felt unstoppable, and so did the rest of the team. Flint felt empowered—he didn't have one criticism about any of the plays. With the Firebolt in their possession, Slytherin was sure to make their mark tomorrow.

"I hope Ravenclaw eats their Wheaties tomorrow." Flint said. "Dismissed!"

While the rest of the team walked back to the castle, Flint stayed behind. Once everyone was in a good distance, he asked Tobias to stay behind for a minute.

"What's up, Fiint?" Tobias asked.

"Tomorrow's a big game for us LeStrange." Flint said, gripping Tobias's shoulder. "And we're all counting on you to catch the snitch. Meaning no slip ups, understood?"

Tobias swallowed. He knew exactly what Flint meant by slip ups. The dementors. He had let it slip that he was taking dementor lessons with Professor Lupin, and now the Slytherin Quidditch captain was under the impression that he had it under control. He thought about his small, feeble cloud, hoping that it would be strong enough for tomorrow.

"You have sorted out your dementor problem, haven't you?" Flint pressed on.

"Yeah," Tobias said quickly. "All sorted."

Flint smiled, clapping the boy on the back. "Good then. Get some rest."

The Slytherin heir watched as his captain pushed ahead, catching up with the rest of the team. He felt his optimism for tomorrow's game dwindle, and decided to head back to the Quidditch pitch to ease his mind. He truly hoped that the dementors wouldn't be at the match tomorrow. Dumbledore would go ballistic, but with the new orders from the Ministry—what if the dementors no longer cared what the headmaster thought.

As he returned back to the pitch, he saw that Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in the stands. _Well, as long as she's here._ The boy thought. He then positioned his broom and kicked off the ground.

* * *

Later that night, as promised, Draco and Theodore helped Ron look for Scabbers. They checked everywhere—the Great Hall, the library, the Astronomy Tower, all the classrooms, even Filch's office (though they weren't sure how Theodore found the key). Determined not to give up the search until the _whole_ castle had been checked, Draco suggested they check the grounds—in case Scabbers found his way out of the castle.

"Can we just go back, Malfoy?" Ron grumbled. "We aren't going to find him."

"We just have one more spot to check and then we're done." Draco insisted.

Theodore nodded. "Then, you can go back to blaming Hermione's cat for his murder."

The three made their way down to the Quidditch pitch, but Ron was sure that they wouldn't find his pet rat. How could Scabbers have gotten all the way down here? However, Ron couldn't deny that a part of him hoped that he had.

"So," Theodore said as they continued to walk. "What's up between you and Tracey Davis?"

Ron immediately went red. He was glad it was dark, or the two Slytherins would have been able to see his face.

"Nothing." He lied.

Draco laughed to himself, kicking some rocks. "Oh, come on, Weasley. This is the first girl you've talked to since Hermione, and you lie about it?"

"It's none of your business, Malfoy." The Gryffindor grumbled.

" _Awww."_ Theo cooed. "Ronald's got a girlfriend."

Ron groaned. "She isn't my girlfriend. She's just a girl that happens to be my friend."

"Sure she is."

" _Shut up, Theo._ "

Nothing else was said once they reached the Quidditch pitch. The three boys combed through the whole stadium. Ron searched the stands. Draco searched both locker rooms, and Theodore searched the actual field. But all three came up empty. No Scabbers—not even a single clue that hinted the rat was still alive.

Draco had no choice but to give up the search, and they headed back to the castle. They were halfway there when Theodore noticed something staring at them through the darkness. His heart immediately dropped, preparing for the worst.

"Theo?" Draco called. "What's going on?"

Theodore shook his head, whipping out his wand. He pointed. Draco did the same when he walked up beside him. There in the darkness was a pair of big, gleaming eyes. Trained and focused on the three of them.

Theodore closed his eyes. "I'm not ready to die yet."

" _Lumos."_ Ron muttered. The beam of light from his wand landed in the grass, the bottom of a tree, and some of its branches.

"You can open your eyes, Theo." Draco said, dropping his wand. There, crouching in a pile of leaves, was Crookshanks. "It's only Crookshanks."

Theodore opened his eyes, sighing in relief when he saw the ginger cat. Ron, on the other hand, was not relieved. Especially since their search for Scabbers came up short.

"Get out of here!" He roared. He grabbed a stone and hurled it at the cat. But Crookshanks had vanished before the stone could reach him.

Now furious, Ron returned to their journey towards the castle, Theodore and Draco trailing behind him.

"See?" Ron grumbled. "She's still letting that bastard cat wander about wherever he wants—probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now…"

The other two boys didn't respond. If anything, they were still in shock. For a moment, the two Slytherins thought those eyes belonged to Sirius Black, and that the ex-con had returned to Hogwarts much earlier than they expected. Theodore was relieved, but Draco felt embarrassed.

Had that truly been Black lurking in the shadows, Draco would be dead. He froze—hesitated. He stood there with his wand out and didn't even cast a curse. True fear came over him, and Draco wasn't proud of it. Would he be this scared when the time actually came?

* * *

"Everyone knows what's at stake here." Flint said the next morning. "This is our last chance to get to the Finals. We blow this, and we're done. If everyone does what we did yesterday, we'll be one step closer to the House Cup."

Tobias felt his stomach twisting in knots. He wasn't nervous for the game—he had his Firebolt. But he was worried about the dementors. What if they showed up again? Would he be prepared to face them? Would this be his moment to make a true Patronus?

"Ready?" Draco asked him.

Tobias nodded. "Always."

The Slytherin team walked out onto the field. The stadium immediately went into a state of uproar and applause as they walked. The Ravenclaw team was already standing in the center of the pitch, dressed in their blue and white uniforms. Tobias spotted Cho Chang, which wasn't very hard. She was the only girl on the team. She was shorter than Tobias, and he had to admit—she was very pretty. He quickly shook that thought out of his head, hoping that Pansy didn't have some mind reading spell on him.

Chang smiled at him, but Tobias didn't return her gesture. He was in full game mode now—he had to be focused. Everyone was depending on him.

"Flint, Davies, shake hands." Madam Hooch said briskly. "Shake, not break, Flint."

"Mount your brooms…on my whistle…three—two—one—"

Tobias didn't even hear the whistle as he shot up into the air. He was higher than all of the brooms in the Quidditch pitch. He marked his position, searching for the snitch.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Lee Jordan announced. "This match is a huge one, folks. Debuting his new Firebolt is Tobias LeStrange from Slytherin House. According to _Which Broomstick_ , the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"The match, Mister Jordan." Professor McGonagall interrupted. "The match."

"Sorry, Professor. Slytherin in possession, chaser Draco Malfoy heading for the goal…"

Tobias zoomed past Draco, his eyes still searching for the snitch. He noticed that Cho Chang was tailing him, cutting him off at every direction. A useful strategy—and she was a very good flier, but she wasn't good enough to catch him. He accelerated forward, circling the Ravenclaw goal posts, leaving Chang in the dust. He whooped in victory when he saw Draco score the first goal of the match.

"MALFOY WITH THE GOAL! SLYTHERIN TEN POINTS!"

And that's when he spotted it—the snitch. It was flitting near one of the barriers. Tobias dived towards it, Chang right behind him. He sped up, excitement rushing through his veins. It would be just like practice—this was it.

"LESTRANGE WATCH OUT!" Adrian Pucey shouted.

A Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came hurdling straight towards Tobias. He was only ten feet away from the snitch, but now had to veer of course to dodge the Bludger. He missed it by an inch, but cursed to himself as the Snitch vanished.

"Get your head in the game, LeStrange!" Flint yelled. "It's not over yet!"

Shaking off his disappointment, Tobias took off again, searching for the snitch.

"Slytherin leads eighty to zero." Lee Jordan announced. "Chang's Comet is really no match for LeStrange's Firebolt. _Ouch!_ Okay, Professor, I get it."

An hour and a half passed, and Ravenclaw was finally hitting back. They had scored three goals, which only put Slytherin fifty points ahead. Tobias was on constant alert—if Chang caught the Snitch before he did—Slytherin would lose the match. He pushed through the match, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser. He searched frantically for the Snitch, and he spotted it once more by the Slytherin goal post.

He accelerated forward, pushing his Firebolt to max speed. Cho Chang tried to block him, and she would have to, but Tobias had other plans. He pressed forward, causing Chang to veer from her block.

"NO MERCY!" Flint roared. "THIS IS WHAT WE CAME HERE FOR!"

Tobias shot forward, following the snitch across the pitch. He noticed that Chang was still tailing him. He smirked to himself—if Chang wanted to tail him, she'd have to take the consequences.

Taking a risk, Tobias veered off course, and as planned, Chang followed him. He dived once more, the Ravenclaw seeker right behind him. He drove his broom as close to the ground as he could, and at the last moment, he rose fast as a bullet. Chang lost control and hurtled downward. The Snitch was now Tobias's for the taking.

"EXCELLENT MANUEVER FROM LESTRANGE!" Lee Jordan shouted. "CHANG WASN'T EXPECTING THAT I BET!"

Tobias accelerated. He didn't even care that Cho Chang was gaining her speed back. He was winning. The Snitch was just a couple inches away. He reached his hand out—but then—

"Oh!" he heard Cho Chang scream. He saw her pointing at something, and when he turned to see what it was, everything froze.

Three dementors. Three tall, black hooded dementors- were facing towards him.

The Slytherin heir immediately pulled out his wand, not even thinking about what he was doing.

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ He screamed, thinking of every happy memory he could. As he said it, something silver-white, erupted from his wand. It headed straight for the dementors, but Tobias didn't care to watch.

He zoomed through the scene—he was almost there. He stretched out his hand once more and grabbed the Snitch. His heart pounded with victory and excitement when he heard Madam Hooch blow her whistle.

"AMAZING CATCH BY LESTRANGE! SLYTHERIN HAS WON THE MATCH!"

Tobias barely touched the ground as the Slytherin team sprinted towards him. Flint, sporting the happiest smile the team had ever seen, lifted Tobias onto his shoulders. The crowd cheered madly, waving their green and silver banners in the stands.

"That's my boy!" Adrian Pucey shouted. "Quidditch Finals here we come!"

Along with the Slytherin Team, Tobias's friends had also joined him on the pitch.

"Great match, Tobias!" Hermione said.

Theodore nodded, waving his Slytherin banner in the air. "You had me worried there for a second, pal- but guess who just won Ten Galleons?! Anybody seen Seamus Finnegan?"

"I knew you could do it." Draco said, putting Tobias in a headlock.

Tobias fought out of his headlock, where he now faced a smiling Pansy Parkinson. He couldn't help but smile himself. His smile grew bigger as she kissed him on the cheek, taking his hand as they began to walk off the Quidditch pitch.

"That was quite some Patronus." Another voice said.

Tobias and Pansy recognized the voice as Professor Lupin. He had also come down to the field with the others. Tobias saw that he looked both pleased and concerned.

"It was all thanks to you, Professor." The heir said. "I didn't feel a thing. They didn't affect me at all!"

Lupin tried to hide his chuckle. "Well, that's because—Tobias—they—er—weren't dementors. Come and see—"

The two Slytherin third years followed Professor Lupin to the edge of the field—the exact spot where Tobias had cast his Patronus. There, lying in the grass, were Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode. They were struggling to remove themselves from the long, black, hooded robes they were wearing. They had stilts strapped to their shoes, which accounted for why they were so tall. Standing beside them, was an unhappy Professor Snape.

"Imitating dementors? Risking the safety of our Seeker? At a time like this?" He sneered. "I will make sure all of you receive detention for the rest of the school year. Get up and follow me. I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would love to hear about this."

The three costumed dementors dreadfully followed Professor Snape to wherever Dumbledore had been sitting. Pansy couldn't help herself as she doubled over with laughter, and Tobias found himself laughing at the situation himself. It anything could have set the seal on the Slytherin's victory, it was this.

"LeStrange!" Adrian Pucey called from across the field. "Get your girlfriend and head to the dungeons! It's a party!"

Tobias smiled. "We'll be there in a second!" This was the happiest he had felt in a month. And with that feeling, he carried Pansy on his back all the way back to the castle—telling her all about the match.

* * *

The party was already in full effect when Draco and Hermione arrived. The Slytherin common room was packed with students from all houses—even the Ravenclaws. The blonde Slytherin spotted a few Gryffindors, including Fred and George Weasley, who were dumping a large and hearty sack of Honeydukes's candy as well as a case of the Three Broomstick's Butterbeer.

"Thought you lot didn't like Slytherins." Said Alex Darcy, opening a bottle of butterbeer.

George smirked. "We don't."

"But we never miss a good party." Said Fred.

"And how did you get all of this stuff?" asked Angelina Johnson, another Gryffindor.

"Just a gift from our friends." Responded George, throwing Chocolate Frogs into the crowd.

Fred laughed. "Merlin bless Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs." The twins winked at someone across the room, and Draco saw that it was Tobias, who was sitting in a corner with Pansy enjoying his own bottle of Butterbeer.

"I really don't want to be here, Draco." Hermione whispered. "I have homework due by Monday. And I can't speed read through four hundred and twenty-two pages."

"And this is why I brought you here." The Slytherin responded. "You've been stressed out about these classes since the term started. You need to have some fun."

Hermione sighed. "I guess you're right. Could go grab me a bottle of Pumpkin Fizz?"

"Of course."

The blonde Slytherin made his way to the table where the Weasley twins had set up shop. He grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer for himself and a Pumpkin Fizz for Hermione, but not before he shoved a few handfuls of sweets down his robes. He was just about to leave when he saw Ron standing beside his brothers, his eyes focused angrily on Hermione.

" _Who invited her?_ " Ron said.

Draco walked up to him. "I did."

"For what? She just going to ruin everything."

"Because she needs to relax, Weasley." The blonde Slytherin responded. "So watch yourself. You're in my house."

Ron's face went even deeper. It was like the others didn't even care that Scabbers was gone. All they cared about was Hermione and her stupid cat. Yes, Draco and Theodore had helped him look for Scabbers, but Ron had initially protested. He knew why they had really done it—to try to change his mind. But it wasn't going to happen. Crookshanks ate Scabbers, and that was final.

"Can't you give her a break?" Theodore asked. Ron hadn't noticed that the brown-haired Slytherin was standing beside him.

"No." He said flatly, crossing his arms. "If she just acted like she was sorry, instead of hiding behind Malfoy. But she'll never admit she's wrong, Theo. She's still acting like Scabbers had gone on vacation or something."

Theo took a sip of Butterbeer. "Maybe because every time you two talk about it, it ends up in an argument."

"Because she's wrong, Theo!"

"Ronald, listen," The other boy said. "parties, especially Slytherin parties, are not for conversation about dead or not dead animals. Enjoy yourself and let Hermione enjoy herself."

Across the room, Tobias was feeling a bit uneasy about the conversation between Draco and Ron. He didn't hear what they said, but he was pretty sure it was about Hermione. Ron's face immediately went red once Draco left, and the blonde Slytherin wore a face a pure destruction.

"Well, that isn't good." Pansy said, catching the conversation as well. "Whose bright idea was it to put Weasley and Granger in the same place?"

Tobias shrugged. "It's a party. Everyone was invited."

"Yeah," His betrothed responded. "But we both know this can end badly, especially if Malfoy's involved."

"Hopefully, it won't lead to that."

Pansy chuckled. "With your friends, LeStrange, it always leads to that."

* * *

An hour or so into the party, Hermione found herself sitting alone at one of the tables in the Slytherin common room. She watched as everyone danced, laughed, and talked. She watched Theodore dance with Luna Lovegood, Pansy laugh at something Tobias said, and Draco talking, no doubt about the Quidditch match, with Dean Thomas. However, she couldn't force herself to enjoy the party. She couldn't lie—it was nice to have a break from all the work she had been doing. But there was still so much going on that a party couldn't solve.

"They told me Hermione Granger was here," said Blaise Zabini. "But I had to see it for myself."

The Slytherin pulled up a chair next to her. He was sporting a black Slytherin sweatshirt, black jeans, and black leather boots to match. He had a bottle of Butterbeer in his left hand, a Pumpkin Fizz in his right. He offered it to her, and Hermione accepted it.

"I saw Malfoy getting you one earlier." He said, and Hermione could tell there was a bit of jealously in his voice. "I'm assuming he was the one who convinced you to show up?"

The witch rolled her eyes. "Malfoy didn't convince me to do anything. I made the decision to come to the party."

"Because Malfoy asked you? Or because there was someone else you wanted to see?"

Hermione blushed. She had been hoping to see Zabini at the party, but after an hour, she gave up hope that the boy even decided to attend.

"There it is." Blaise smirked. "The true intentions of Hermione Granger."

"I didn't think you were going to come."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"I never told you thank you," said Hermione, thinking about that night on the Astronomy Tower. "For that night."

The Slytherin laughed. "You mean for waking me out of my sleep to stop you from making the worse decision ever?"

The witch smacked him on the arm, but couldn't help laughing herself. "Yes. For that." The laughing stopped. "You didn't have to come."

Blaise stopped laughing as well, reaching into his sweatshirt. He pulled out his time master, holding the device in his palm. Hermione felt her time turner buzzing, and her heart beating rapidly.

"As long as I have this, I will always come for you." He said.

"Ahem."

The two looked up and saw Draco standing at the table. Blaise put his Time Master away swiftly, taking his Butterbeer and leaving the table. As awkward as she already felt, Hermione didn't know what to say. She could see that Draco was uncomfortable and she hoped that his anger wouldn't get the best of him.

"So," He said dryly. "You and Zabini."

"He only stopped to speak, Draco." Hermione said. "That isn't a crime."

"Yeah, but…it's him, isn't it? The reason we've barely talked since we got back from the holidays?" Draco dug in his pocket, pulling out the charm bracelet he had gotten Hermione for Christmas. "He's the reason you wouldn't accept my gift? Why everything is changing between us?"

The witch sighed. "Draco…I didn't accept your gift because of what you said to me before the Christmas holiday. I don't know what's happening between us, and I don't know what's happening between me and Blaise, but that's none of your business."

Draco was silent.

"I just need my friend, Draco." She said softly. "It's a lot going on, and…please don't make me choose."

In that moment, Draco Malfoy knew what he needed to do. He was so caught up in his feelings for Hermione, that he was forgetting what he really wanted. Her friendship. He knew that he would do anything for her before his feelings developed, and even now, he still would. He hated that it was Zabini who was making her smile, but at least she was smiling. But because it was Zabini, it didn't mean that it was the end of their friendship.

And that's what he needed to most.

He shook his head. "I wasn't going to ask you to choose, Hermione. I just…I just really need my friend, too." He took her hand, and Hermione could see the small specks of blue in his eyes. She knew that he was being sincere.

"But if he hurts you," Draco added. "I'll kill him."

"You'll have to beat me to it." The girl said in return, smiling.

It was then, that fate had taken the name of Pansy Parkinson and that Ronald Weasley had finally lost his temper.

The boy was standing mighty close to the table where Draco and Hermione were sitting, talking to Tracey Davis.

"You know, Tracey," Ron said aloud. "Fudge Flies have always been my least favorite candy, but you know whose favorite they were?"

Tracey rolled her eyes, already seeing where this was going. She pulled on Ron's arm to get him out of the Slytherin common room, but the boy wouldn't budge. The common room was settling into whispers, and it encouraged Ron to be even louder.

"Come _onnnnnnn_ , Tracey?" He asked. "Don't you want to know?"

Draco balled his fist, glaring at the Weasley boy. But Ron's eyes were focused straight on Hermione's.

"Theo?" Tracey called. "A little help?"

Theodore ran straight over, a mouth full of licorice wands. He swallowed them whole, trying to ease Ron's temper.

"Let's go, buddy." He said cautiously. "I think you've had a bit too much sugar for one night."

But as the Slytherin tried to lead Ron out of the common room, Ron snatched Theo by his side, holding him closely with a strong grip.

"Oh, this isn't good." Tobias said as he watched the scene from across the room.

Pansy shook her head. "Told you."

The couple stood up, their plans to end this once and for all, but Ronald Weasley was quicker, and louder than before. The Slytherin common room was silent now, all ears for the show Ron was about to put on for them.

"My old rat…Scabbers!" He said the rat's name with much emphasis. "If he hadn't just been _eaten_ , he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He use to really like them—"

Hermione stood up from her seat, her eyes filled with tears. "That's enough, Ronald!" The witch then burst into tears, and before anybody could do anything, Hermione ran out of the common room, still sobbing.

Theodore fought his way out of Ron's hold. "You just couldn't leave it alone could you?"

"No." Ron said flatly.

With Hermione's departure, the party was no longer a party. And if Ron's outburst didn't end it, the arrival of Professor Snape sure did.

"If you were not sorted into this house…leave." Said the Professor. "Anyone caught out in the corridors will serve detention for the remainder of the term."

The Slytherin common room cleared out fast, only leaving the mess of the party and the Slytherin students who attended. Professor Snape walked through the mess, heading towards his house quarters.

"If this mess isn't cleaned by morning," He said lowly. "You all will share a fate worse than death."

His door closed with a slam, and everyone immediately started to clean up. Whether Snape was bluffing or not, nobody truly wanted to find out.

Tobias, Pansy, Draco, Theo, and Tracey decided to clean the far side of the common room, away from everyone else so they could talk in private. Pansy was the first to speak on the situation with Ron.

"Nice going, Tracey," She said. "Your boyfriend ruined the party."

Tracey rolled her eyes. "He isn't my boyfriend."

"But he did ruin the party." Theo said, picking up bottles off the floor.

"I honestly wish he would get over that stupid rat," Draco growled. "He's gone from making Granger's life miserable to making everyone else's life miserable."

"He's grieving." Said Tobias. "He'll get over it soon."

"And how many more parties will he ruin before then?" Theo mumbled under his breath.

* * *

Monday came, and if Ron and Hermione were speaking before, they surely weren't speaking to each other now. Hermione wouldn't even look Ron's way, and Ron acted as if the Gryffindor witch didn't exist.

Tobias, Theodore, and Draco had taken their seats back at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, but it didn't feel the same. Hermione told them about Neville sitting on his own now, and how he had taken Ron's side when the Scabbers incident first occurred. Tobias looked down the table, watching Neville eat his breakfast in silence, his face in some kind of trance.

"And he didn't tell you why he wanted to sit by himself?" Draco asked, though he felt as if he knew the reason why. Neville had accused Tobias of not telling the truth about their parents on the train ride back to Hogwarts. It was likely that the boy was feeling ashamed about his accusation, not wanting to face Tobias until those feelings went away.

"No." Hermione said tiredly. "I wanted to talk to him that night when—you know—but Ron happened instead."

Theo sighed. "Another thing Ronald has ruined. I really hope I don't have to punch him anytime soon."

"Fighting will just make it worse." The witch said. "Just leave him alone."

Tobias frowned. "You're defending him? After what he did at the party?"

"It's funny. But I remembered what Luna Lovegood told Theodore. About how people say hurtful things because their hurt?"

"Yeah, but Granger—" Draco tried to argue.

"—Scabbers is gone, Draco." Hermione said. "And I know it wasn't Crookshanks who did it, but he is gone. And it's hurting Ron."

Theodore wasn't convinced. "But it's emotional pain. I'm talking about physical pain, two separate things."

" _Theo._ "

"Fine. Fine." The boy said. "I'll leave him alone."

The daily post came as usual that morning, and Tobias realized he had gotten a letter from Hagrid. He knew it was from Hagrid because of the writing on the front, and the many times it looked as if a pencil had been broken on the parchment. He opened the letter, reading it aloud to the rest of the group.

" _Dear Tobias and Friends_ ," He read. " _How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come and collect you lot from the castle. Wait for me in the Entrance Hall; You're not allowed out on your own. Cheers, Hagrid._ "

"We're not actually going to wait at the entrance for Hagrid are we?" Theo asked, his mouthful of bacon.

"He said 'and friends'," said Draco. "Meaning Ron and Neville, too."

"I call dibs on Neville." Theo said quickly. "You two can handle Ron."

And with those words, Theodore left the table, walking over to Neville to convince him to come to Hagrid's tonight. Tobias and Draco shared a look, and then shared that same look with Hermione.

"It's fine, you two." She said. "I know Hagrid would love to see all of us. That's all that matters."

* * *

Ron could barely keep his eyes off the group as they spoke at breakfast. He was curious into what they were talking about, but he had a feeling he already knew. They were talking about him, and what happened at the Slytherin party.

A part of him wanted to feel guilty—this was the second time Ron had made Hermione cry. He remembered how he felt the first time—it was a guilty, queasy feeling. That feeling was now taking over, but he fought hard against it.

"Quite a show you put on Saturday, Weasley."

Ron veered away from his ex-friend's conversation and found Tracey Davis sitting across from him. Her face was hard to read—but Ron felt a vibe that he was in deep trouble. And it was one thing to be on the wrong side of a male Slytherin, but a female? That was a whole other ballgame.

"I wouldn't call it a show." Ron said. "A moment of truth more like it."

Tracey rolled her eyes "More like you being a bloody idiot."

"Really?" The boy narrowed his eyes. "You're taking _her_ side?"

"I'm not taking _anyone's_ side, Weasley. I honestly don't care enough to get involved. But you were a bloody pain in the ass that night, and it wasn't okay."

Ron snorted. "The only thing that was a pain in the ass was Hermione being there, acting like everything was fine. Meanwhile Scabbers-"

"Enough with the rat." Tracey snapped. "I get it, Ron. I do. Scabbers was your friend, and now he's gone. But you're going to lose a lot more friends if you keep acting like this. You can't keep blaming Hermione for what her cat did."

"Then, who am I supposed to blame?!" Ron snapped back, his face red with anger.

"Why do you have to have someone to blame?" said the girl. "Why can't you just accept that what happened to Scabbers was an accident?"

"What if it wasn't?"

"You honestly think Granger told her cat to eat Scabbers?"

Ron grabbed another piece of toast. "She could have."

"You. Are. Hopeless." Said Tracey. "Do you hear how stupid you sound? Or do your ears tune out everything that comes out of your mouth?"

"That wasn't stupid!"

"Says the idiot. Granger should have hexed you into a dung beetle for the things you've been saying to her." She then looked down the table, where Hermione and the three Slytherin heirs were still in midst of conversation. "Instead, she's probably down there trying to understand why you said it."

Ron also looked back down at the four friends. Theodore looked like he wanted to punch someone, but those expressions disappeared when Hermione began talking. Part of him wanted to know what she was saying, but his pride wouldn't let him linger on the thought.

"All I'm saying, Ron, is that friends aren't easy to come by." Tracey continued. "Especially not the friends you have. Do you really want to throw all of that away over a rat?"

Ron huffed. "He wasn't just any rat. He—"

"I know. _I know._ He was Scabbers. But these aren't just any friends. These are your best friends. Granger is your best friend. And friends forgive each other."

Ron pondered Tracey's words. He was still upset about Scabbers, true enough, but the now the question was – how long would he stay mad? And Tracey was right, those were his best friends. And as much as Scabbers's death pained him, not being able to talk to his friends hurt him even more. He wondered if his anger was coming from the fact that he just felt alone. Maybe this wasn't about Scabbers—maybe it was about him not having anyone else to talk to.

"But don't listen to me." The Slytherin added. "I'm just a Slytherin." She then leaned over the table to kiss Ron on his cheek. She smirked as the boy's face burned red.

* * *

"Come on, Longbottom." Theodore whined. "You have to come. It's Hagrid."

Neville shook his head. "I don't know, Theo. Things haven't been…easy…for me lately."

"All the more reason to come." The other boy said.

"You don't get it. It isn't that I don't want to go. I can't."

Theodore frowned. "Why can't you?"

Neville tossed his eggs around his plate. He wasn't sure if he could tell Theodore, or if he should tell him. He knew how close Theodore and Tobias was, and Neville really didn't want Tobias knowing until he knew for sure that Draco kept his word.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Neville." Theodore said. "You're my partner in crime. Always finding out things we aren't supposed to know."

"That is true." Said Neville. He dropped his fork, staring into Theo with pure seriousness. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Tobias."

Theodore raised a brow. "What does this have to do with—"

"Pinky promise, Theo." The Gryffindor boy said urgently. "Scout's honor."

"Fine. Fine." Theodore stuck out his pinky, making the promise to Neville. "Scout's honor. Now why can't you come to Hagrid's?"

Neville sighed. "I can't come…because I'm afraid of how I'll react around Tobias."

"I'm not understanding."

"Have you ever been mad at the wrong person? Like you know it isn't their fault, but you have no one else to blame. And you don't know what to do with all the anger."

Theodore understood then. He understood what it was like to hold in anger, only for it to erupt at the wrong moment. And at the wrong person. Because there is no one else to blame.

"What's going on, Neville?" He asked, all playfulness erased from his tone.

The Slytherin heir could see that Neville was holding back tears. He also saw that Neville was failing, the small tears falling slowly down his cheeks.

"Over the holiday," Neville started, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "gran told me what really happened to my parents. She told me that they had been tortured—by two of Lord Voldemort's followers. Bellatrix and Rodolphus LeStrange."

Theodore felt a lump in his throat. Tobias parents tortured Neville's? That was the reason Neville's parents were in the hospital. The reason why he lived with his grandmother.

"And at a time, I wanted to be angry at Tobias. I _was_ upset with him, until Draco told me that Tobias didn't know about what his parents did."

"I didn't know…" said Theodore. "But…Tobias…he would've told you…"

Neville sniffed. "I know. But the anger is still there. And because that's his mum and dad, he's the only one I can blame."

For a moment, Theodore was speechless. He didn't know what to say. It was like finding out about Tobias's father all over again. He remembered how Tobias reacted, and it made sense why Neville isolated himself. Maybe he was scared the same reaction would come out of him. Or worse. And Theodore knew worse.

"You have to tell him, Neville." Theodore said. He saw terror flash into Neville's eyes. "It's the only way you'll get over your anger. If you keep running and holding it in, you'll end up hurting someone—or yourself."

The Gryffindor shook his head. "I can't. Draco said he would tell him-"

"No. No. Screw Malfoy. It has to be _you_ , Neville." The Slytherin argued.

"But what if…what if something bad happens? It'll be all my fault."

Theo shook his head. "Nothing bad is going to happen. Tobias is your friend, Neville. He will understand. But you have to tell him. You can't sit around and wait for someone else to do it."

Neville went silent, tears still running down his face. He felt his stomach tying itself in knots—his palms were even sweaty.

"You don't have to tell him by yourself." Theodore assured him. "If you come to Hagrid's tonight, you can tell him then. And I'll be right beside you the whole time."

"You promise?" The other boy sniffled.

"Scout's honor."

* * *

Tobias and Draco waited until lunch to convince Ron to come to Hagrid's tonight. They used Potions and History of Magic to plan their approach. They both knew how difficult it would be to persuade Ron to be in the same room with Hermione. If he was still feeling the way he was Saturday, they had a long fight ahead of them.

But the two Slytherins soon found that the fight would be short. Better yet, there would be no fight at all.

"Okay." Ron said, taking another bite into his sandwich.

Draco frowned. "Okay?"

"Yeah," The Gryffindor said. "I'll come to Hagrid's tonight."

The two Slytherins shared a looked of complete confusion before turning back to Ron, who was still eating his sandwich, while grabbing another one off the lunch platter.

"You do know Hermione will there as well?" Tobias asked. "Meaning that you two would be in the same room?"

Ron swallowed another piece of his sandwich. "Well, you said Hagrid invited everyone. Why wouldn't she be there?"

"What I mean is—because of what happened Saturday…"

" _Hagrid invited everyone._ So I'm coming."

Draco stared at Ron long and hard, trying to see what the boy was playing at. But Ron looked like his usual self—stuffing his mouth with anything and everything he could get his hands on before their next lesson.

"Well, ok." Draco finally said. "See you tonight. Hagrid's going to get us from the entrance hall."

"See you then." Ron said.

Draco and Tobias then left the Gryffindor table, feeling even more confused than they had when they first sat down.

"What was that all about?" Draco said. "I was sure Weasley was going to throw a bloody fit."

Tobias nodded. "So did I. I'm just hoping he isn't saving it for later."

* * *

Six o' clock came and the six third-years met in the entrance hall as instructed. Hermione grew nervous as she saw Ron, but the red-haired boy seemed calm. Hermione bit her lip, trying to dissect Ron's new behavior, but finally had to admit that he looked fine.

The doors opened, and Hagrid stepped through. He greeted them all with a big smile.

"I wasn't expecting to see all o' yeh!" He said excitedly. "Luckily, I made enough tea."

When the six third-years entered the hut, the first thing they noticed was that Hagrid wasn't the only one sleeping inside. Buckbeak had also been sleeping inside Hagrid's hut, stretched out on one of Hagrid's quilts. The creature was enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Theodore immediately ran over to Buckbeak, performing the proper procedures, before petting him.

"What's this for, Hagrid?" Neville asked, and every one directed their attention to what he was talking about, seeing that this was the first time Neville spoke since they arrived. Hanging of the wall, was a hairy, brown suit and a large yellow and orange tie.

"The trial." Hermione gasped. "It's this week, isn't it?"

"Yep." Said Hagrid. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight Bus…"

Ron felt a pang of guilt—he had promised to help Hagrid with his case. And he had also promised that he would have Hermione help as well. But since school started back, Buckbeak's case was far from his mind. Convincing Hermione to help was even further.

"But enough abou' me." He said, pouring everyone a cup of tea. "I got somethin' ter discuss with you all."

"What's to discuss?" Theodore asked.

"You lot." Hagrid answered. "Don' think I haven' noticed you all are at odds. I been hearin' things 'round the castle."

The six students' faces grew red—they were each wondering the same thing. What _exactly_ had Hagrid heard?

Theodore scratched his neck. "We can explain…"

"No." Hagrid said. "No explainin'. But I gotta tell yeh, I thought you all'd value yer friendship with each other more'n broomsticks or rats."

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable looks, and Ron shuffled a bit in his seat.

"I know you all got yet hearts in the righ' place." He continued. "I know because I know you kids. Yeh do anything for each other."

"Like searching for a secret, immortal stone." Tobias pitched in.

Theodore smiled. "Or going to fight a giant murderous snake in a secret chamber under the girl's bathroom."

"Righ'." Hagrid smiled as well. "Or even tellin' a professor that yer friend's gift may be cursed. Or searchin' the castle fer a missin' rat."

The smiles went away, and everyone was catching on to Hagrid's point. They'd been at odds with each other for the same reasons they were friends. Because they would do anything for each other—no matter the risk.

"What I'm tryin' ter say is, there's a lot o' stuff happening tha' you lot don't understand yet. But you'll learn soon enough—tha' it's better to have friends by yer side than bein' alone. You lot are stronger together. Don' throw it away o'er sum material stuff."

Draco understood completely. Along with the way he felt about Tobias, it was true that the group had always been stronger together. There was no way they could have found the Philosopher's stone without each other. Or found out where the Chamber of Secrets was and what was hiding inside of it. The blonde Slytherin was honestly more willing than he was before about going after Black now that he, Theodore, Tobias, and Hermione was on board. But he knew he would feel even more comfortable if Weasley and Neville were coming, too.

"Hagrid's right." Said Ron. The Gryffindor went red, noticing that everyone was looking at him with mixed expressions of surprise and confusion.

"Friends aren't easy to come by." He continued, remembering what Tracey told him at breakfast. "And I've been…a bit rude lately."

Draco snorted. " _A bit rude?_ You've been a total arse, Weasley."

"You've been throwing cheap shots at Hermione since the Scabbers incident." Theodore added on. "Rude isn't the word for it."

"I know." Ron groaned. "I _know._ But you guys don't get it. I have five older brothers and one sister. If something isn't happening with Bill, it's happening to Charlie. And if it isn't Charlie, it's Percy. And if it isn't him, it's Fred and George. And if it isn't them, it's Ginny. I'm always overlooked."

Everyone listened as Ron spoke. They hadn't thought about how life at home was for Ron, or why he always did things for attention.

"Before I came to Hogwarts, and met you all," He continued. "Scabbers was all I had. He was the only one who made me feel like I wasn't someone else's brother. I was just Ron. And now…I just feel alone."

Hermione sniffled. "You're not alone, Ron. I wish you could see that."

"I should be." The boy argued. "The way I've treated you. The things I've said."

"But we understand why you said them." Said Tobias. "You're hurt, we get it. That's why we haven't gave up on you."

"Though we've thought about it." Draco mumbled. Hermione immediately thumped him. " _Ouch!_ Okay, okay…it was just me."

Ron let out a small smile. It turned out that Tracey was right. These aren't just any friends. These were his best friends. Who, even after he made a completely fool out of himself, found the heart to understand his anger, instead of exiling him. And to put the icing on the cake, it was Hermione who said that he wasn't alone. After everything he had said and done, she still considered him her friend.

"We aren't going anywhere, Weasley." Theodore said. "And if we did, you'd be right with us."

"Everything's just been out of whack since the holidays…" Draco started. "I honestly thought we would never be in the same room again."

"Same." Said Tobias.

"We've been angry at each other for so long." Hermione said next, wiping her eyes.

Theodore nodded. "It's like we've forgotten how to be friends. Always one thing after another."

There was a silence, and then…

"I have something to say." Neville said suddenly.

Theodore cast him a look, his eyes asking ' _Now?'_ Neville nodded. The room went silent, and everyone braced themselves for what the boy was about to say. No one but Draco, and now Theodore, had really spoken to the Gryffindor since school began.

Draco felt a rock land in his gut. He was sure that Neville was about to explain to everyone why he had been so distant towards the group. A part of him felt like this was another secret he had been keeping from Tobias—and that the friend group would split once again.

"Over the holidays," Neville started, trying to find his words. He wanted to explain it the same way he did to Theodore at breakfast, but now that Tobias was here…it was harder. It was harder to keep the anger inside. But he fought against it…Tobias wasn't to blame here.

"My gran told me what happened to my parents. The reason why they are in St. Mungo's for the rest of their lives."

"Oh, Neville…" Hermione said softly, but she wasn't prepared for he was about to say next.

"They were tortured." Neville continued. "By two of Lord Voldemort's followers…"

At those words, Tobias felt his stomach tighten. Another thing his grandfather was responsible for—the torturing of Neville's parents. All because they stood against his cause. And now Neville was living with his Grandmother…

Tobias felt sick. "I…I'm sorry, Neville."

 _Don't be sorry yet._ Theodore and Draco both thought.

The Gryffindor took a deep breath, finishing the rest of his confession. Everyone braced themselves. "It was Bellatrix and Rodolphus LeStrange…your parents, Tobias."

The room dropped dead into complete silence. If Tobias felt sick before, he now felt even sicker. He had gone numb in his chair—his face was white with shock. Hermione gasped—she couldn't believe what she had just heard—she didn't know what to say. What to think. Theodore hung his head, wondering what would come next. Ron felt foolish—this made his situation about Scabbers look like dragon dung. And Draco held his breath—hoping that they could all get past this.

They had to.

 **Author's Note: A Hogwarts-Filled Chapter! The Lemon Squeeze will return…**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	60. POA22: Destiny and Fate (TLS Prt 2)

**Greetings, my fellow readers. It has been too long. I'm sorry I've been away. But I have returned, to finish the story that has just yet begun. Thank you to those who have been following my story from the beginning, and those who are just joining the fun. Now presenting, Taken: Chapter 60!**

Help me

It's like the walls are caving in

Sometimes I feel like giving up

But I just can't

It isn't in my blood

~ In My Blood x Shawn Mendes

Chapter 60: Destiny and Fate (The Lemon Squeeze Prt. 2)

As much as Pansy Parkinson loved breaking the rules, she felt uneasy about breaking this one. It was around 9 o clock that night when she received a letter from Tobias's owl, Jasper. She opened it quickly, reading the content just the same.

 _Meet me by the lake._

She froze, trying to decipher the strange feeling growing inside her. This note wasn't as cunning and cute as when he invited her to the Quidditch pitch. And it didn't have the light-hearted tone as the notes they usually sent each other. It felt desperate and urgent, though the words were written just as calm and natural.

She quickly pinned her hair into a messy bun and grabbed one of her black winter robes. Having mastered the art of sneaking around the castle with LeStrange and his friends, it took no effort for Pansy to sneak out of the Hogwarts castle and down to the Black Lake, where her betrothed had been waiting for her.

She stopped a few feet away from him, eyeing him carefully. He sat at the edge of the lake, his knees pulled to his chest. Even from where she was standing, she could hear him sniffling. What had happened? She remembered hearing from Daphne that all six of the used-to-be friends had been summoned to Hagrid's for tea. Though she hoped that this would be their chance to put all their differences aside and be friends again, the note she received earlier and the sight of the dark-haired wizard sitting by the lake made her hopes fade away.

She took a deep breath and sat beside him near the lake. She reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. She was caught by surprise a bit when he squeezed her hand, tears running down his face.

"Tobias…" She said softly.

"I'm becoming just like them." He said darkly. "I'm becoming just like my parents. Just like _him._ "

The witch understood that by "him", Tobias meant his grandfather. But what she didn't understand, was why Tobias seemed so upset about it now. The last time they had spoken about Tobias's grandfather was at his funeral, where her betrothed was so worried about not living up to his grandfather's legacy. Now it seemed like he never wanted it to begin with.

"Today," He began once more. "I found out the reason Neville's parents are in the hospital. It was because my parents…. tortured them to the brink of insanity." He turned to look at her, and the look on his face broke Pansy's heart.

He seemed broken, like everything he knew in his life was a lie. She had never seen Tobias LeStrange so unsure, so discouraged. Even with everything that happened last term, he stayed strong. But now, it seemed that strength was stripped away with image of his parents.

"You're…." _You're not like them._ She wanted to say. But she knew that Tobias would have a counter argument for anything she said. So instead of stating the obvious, she decided to prove it to him.

"Do you know why I like you, Tobias?" She asked, and when Tobias opened his mouth to answer, she cut him off. "It's because you were different that the other Slytherin boys. You aren't an arsehole like Malfoy or a sarcastic goof like Theo. You were so _different_ that you saw no problem in befriending a muggleborn, a blood traitor, and a klutz—so different that you convinced that arsehole and sarcastic goof to befriend them as well."

Tobias shook his head. "It's not the same thing."

"But it _is!_ " His betrothed protested. "You're so worried about upholding your birthright and Slytherin name, that you don't see the things you've done when you _weren't_ worried about it. How did Dumbledore put it? Having the courage to choose your destiny?"

"That's what I thought I was doing, choosing my destiny. Doing what I felt was right…for me, for my family. But now it feels like I'm choosing their destiny. It's my legacy Pansy, and the first thing I decided to do with it was murder Sirius Black."

Pansy saw the tears rolling down his face again, and she did her best to blink away the ones stinging behind her eyes. Tobias's confession made her think about her own family. How she never wanted to be anything like her parents, but all the same wanted nothing more but to be the family she hoped they could be. And like Tobias, she knew she would do anything to make that happen—but now, she saw it all came with a price.

"I'm exactly like them. Plotting to avenge them when they're responsible…" He stopped, catching a lump in his throat. "My mother…I promised her…"

Tobias felt sick inside. He felt angry. Confused. A few days ago, everything felt so clear- he was going to live up to his grandfather's legacy, he was going to put his family back together, he was going to avenge his father. But what seemed so clear was now muddy. Everything he ever knew was a grey area now.

Tonight, Tobias LeStrange realized that his grandfather's legacy wasn't the grand kingdom he once thought it was. That Lord Voldemort's throne was built upon lies, betrayal, and the blood of those who stood against him. And upon the casualties of his throne, lied Tobias's best friend's parents- Alice and Frank Longbottom.

Neville's face was burned into his memory. The words wouldn't cease to echo. _It was Bellatrix and Rodolphus LeStrange…. your parents._ The same parents he wanted to avenge because of what Sirius Black did. But they did the same. His parents were the reason Neville was living with his grandmother. And here was Neville, not even dreaming of a revenge plan against the people who took his parents away from him. And that's what hit the Slytherin heir hard.

Was this who they were meant to become? Murders and liars and thieves? Destroying everything in their path with no regard to the consequences? Demanding and never returning? Was this the life drawn for the Heir of the Dark Lord?

His mother was in Azkaban for 12 years for crimes against the wizarding community. His father was betrayed and murdered by his cousin. His grandfather's 16-year-old self tried to murder his best friend's sister, Ginny, and the rest of the muggleborn students at Hogwarts. His uncle was responsible for the Chamber of Secrets purge to begin with.

Was this the life drawn for the Heir of the Dark Lord? Yes. But…

"No." Pansy said, her voice hard as stone. "You're not exactly like them. You're better than them. Tobias, you do realize your parents—hell, the Slytherin house period, wouldn't have done half the things you've accomplished since you've been at Hogwarts? You've been choosing your destiny since you've been here."

Tobias sniffled again at her words.

"You don't have to murder Black to prove yourself to anyone. It isn't the only way to avenge your father. It's your legacy now Tobias. You can do what you want with it."

Her betrothed didn't say anything. He kept his focus on the stars above them, pondering Pansy's words. He thought about everything he had done since he stepped foot inside that castle. Finding the Philosopher's Stone. Saving the muggleborn students from the ancient Basilisk. Things that if his grandfather knew, he would be more than disappointed in his grandson.

But Pansy was right. It was his legacy, and he had the right to do with it as he pleased. With everything that he knew, he had to make a change. No more lies. No more betrayals. No more blood.

Starting tonight.

Pansy couldn't hold in her small smile when she felt Tobias's head rest on her shoulder.

"You know you're my best friend, right?" He said.

"Oh, I think we're _way_ past that stage, LeStrange." She teased back.

The boy chuckled. "I think you're right."

* * *

Draco Malfoy made it his duty to walk Hermione back to Gryffindor tower that night from Hagrid's. Ron, Theo, and Neville went on ahead—Ron and Theo wanted to make sure Neville was alright. His confession at Hagrid's hut took a lot out of him, especially to say it in front of Tobias.

Tobias left soon after Neville's confession. Draco remembered how Tobias looked when the words came out. His face was a sickly pale, but there was a raging fire in his eyes. It was all too much—too many revelations. Too many secrets. _Too much._ And by the time Draco found the strength to chase after his cousin, Tobias was gone.

And now here they were.

"You looked as if you had something to confess at Hagrid's." Draco sparked the conversation.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to decide if she wanted to confide in the blonde Slytherin. "It's nothing, really." Though they both knew it was something.

"Is it Zabini?"

" _What?_ No." The witch said quickly, though her face went an apple red at his name.

Draco chuckled. "Good. I can scratch hexing Zabini off my to-do list."

Hermione pushed him playfully, laughing in return. But she couldn't help that a part of her still liked Draco more than a friend. He had always been there for her—even through their worst arguments. A few months ago, she would have never thought she and Draco would ever be back on friend terms again. I guess that was the way the world worked.

Which made her think of something else.

"How does this keep happening?" The curly-haired witch asked. Draco frowned, not knowing what she meant, but a felt a bad feeling crawling up his spine.

He slowed his pace. "How does what keep happening?"

Hermione looked down at her feet, trying not to blush. "We argue, we stop talking to each other…then we make up and we're friends again. It's like…."

"Fate." Draco finished her sentence, absent-mindedly. Hermione looked up at him, trying to figure out if that was the word she wanted to say. She looked into his grey eyes, finding those small specks of blue.

The blonde Slytherin cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality. "Just something my father told me over the summer, when he and my mother were arguing. He said that despite everything, fate would keep them together."

There was silence between them. Hermione felt something twist in her stomach. Could it be true? That it was fate that kept her and Draco together—and not some stupid material thing like a time turner? It made her think about what Blaise said at the Slytherin victory party.

 _As long as I have this, I will always come for you._

As sweet as it sounded when he said it, the witch couldn't help but think about what would happen when Blaise didn't have his Time Master. How would he know if she was in trouble? How would he know how to find her? Would he still be there for her? Or would he just toss her away when he no longer needed her help with his problem?

"I hate to admit it." Said Draco, now picking up his pace. "But Zabini has changed." He chuckled again. "I guess a snake can change its scales."

Hermione felt something other than humor in the blonde Slytherin's laugh. "Draco…"

"If only I knew his secret…" The boy went on. "I could have had us at Hagrid's weeks ago."

The witch knew where this was going, and refused to allow the Slytherin to beat himself up. She jumped in front of him, stopping their walk to Gryffindor Tower. She grabbed his hands for the first time in who knows how long. The minute she grabbed his hands, something—sparked? —inside of her, and she did her best to hide her blush.

" _You_ , Draco Malfoy, don't need to change." She said. "You have done more for me these past two years than Zabini has since this term started. You have your imperfections, yes, but…" She smiled brightly at him, causing the blonde Slytherin to blush. "…you're perfect to me."

Draco's blush went an even deeper red when the Gryffindor witch pecked him on the cheek. Hermione's reassurance gave the Slytherin heir a warmth that he hadn't felt since they returned to Hogwarts. The feeling that she would always be by his side—through their arguments and silent treatments. That he didn't have to make a whole 180 like Zabini.

The warmth stayed with him as he and Hermione continued their walk back to Gryffindor tower.

 _So, this was fate?_ The blonde Slytherin thought to himself.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay, Neville?" Theo asked.

Neville nodded his head. "I'll be fine. I'm just worried about Tobias."

The other three friends had gathered in the boys' dormitory in Gryffindor tower. Ron and Theodore sat on Ron's bed while Neville sat on his own. They made their own silent agreement to not say anything until they got to the tower.

"Yeah, me too." Ron admitted. "Did you all see his face when Neville told him?"

Theo nodded. "White as a ghost." He shivered. "Anybody know where he went after?"

The other two boys shook their heads. Theodore sighed.

"I don't blame him for leaving. It's like…that's all they want us to be. Murderers and liars." He said, feeling a lump in his throat. "Just like them."

Ron and Neville listened, hearing Theodore's voice crack as he spoke. They had never seen the Slytherin break down like this. Theo had always been the one to make light of any situation, using his humor to mask his own pain. But after seeing Tobias's reaction at Hagrid's, it seems that everyone was dropping their acts.

"The only reason Tobias wanted to kill Sirius Black in the first place is because his mother told him they would be a family again. But that isn't love. I watched my father torture my mother, someone he claimed to love, because Lord Voldemort told him to." Ron tensed as the tears rolled down Theo's face. Neville struggled to hold back his own. "My mother is in the hospital because of him. And he wants me to be just like him! _Just. Like. Him._ "

"You don't have to be like them, Theo." Neville said softly. "Draco or Tobias either."

Theo sniffled. "It's easier said than done. They shove it down our throats every day, especially Tobias. And it scares me that one day I won't recognize him anymore. He's my best friend, but everyone just sees him as the Heir to the Dark Lord. And one day…that's all that will be left."

As Theo spoke, Ron thought about the first day he arrived to Hogwarts. How he "warned" Hermione and Neville to stay away from the Slytherins. That they were a conniving and backstabbing lot. But then he met Tobias, Draco, and Theodore—the three Slytherins he now called his best friends. They had been through so much together, but the Gryffindor had to admit that he was also afraid. That one day he would wake up and his three friends wouldn't be the same anymore. That they would be just like the rest of the wizards who end up in Slytherin. Conniving and backstabbing. Murderers and Liars.

"It scares me, too." Neville admitted. "What's going to happen when we get older? Will we stop being friends?"

"No." Ron said immediately. "Never."

Theodore wiped his eyes. The Gryffindor continued. "You three are living proof that all Slytherins aren't the same. And I'll be damned if I let you become like all the others. _This_ …is what friends are for. To remind you of who you are when you have forgotten." He thought about Hermione and what she said to him at Hagrid's earlier. "I had to remind myself of that."

Theodore smiled. "I see Davis has been a good influence on you." The boy smiled even bigger when Ron's face went a deep and embarrassing red.

"Shut up, Theo." Ron said back. "But she's another example. I used to think that all Slytherins were the same. But after meeting you guys…it seems that all Gryffindors are the same. Casting out what they don't understand."

Neville nodded in agreement, thinking about all the times he defending Draco, Theo, and Tobias to his grandmother. Yes, Tobias parents did a horrible thing to his family, but Tobias wasn't like them. He _wouldn't_ be like them. And Neville would make sure of it. He couldn't imagine his life at Hogwarts without his friends—the same friends he had been so timid to hang with when he first came to Hogwarts.

"But we understand." Neville said. "And we'll be here to remind you guys whenever you forget."

"That's what friends are for." Said Ron.

* * *

"No, no, no, NO!" The man screamed, knocking over the empty cans of beans he had just finished eating.

He continued to pace back and forth across the Shrieking Shack, trying to weigh his options. He now knew it was foolish of him to rely on the boy to protect him. Whether Lord Voldemort had raised him or not, he was still James's son. And now that Tobias knew the truth about his "parents", the man knew he no longer had someone to protect him- no one to delay Sirius from finding him. This was his end.

The end of Peter Pettigrew.

"There must be something…" He said hurriedly, wringing his hands. "...something I can do. I can't let him catch me…"

He had been a fly on the wall at Hagrid's Hut that night, listening to Tobias and his friends. Well, to be honest, Peter hadn't been listening at all. He had been so mesmerized in how much the boy looked like James, and was baffled how anybody believed that this was Tom Riddle's grandson. And his eyes shown a soft green, just like Lily's. It pained him deeply to think about his former friends, but in a weird, twisted way, it warmed his heart to see their son sitting amongst his own friends.

But as soon as the Longbottom boy told LeStrange the truth about his parents, that warmth went away. He noticed Tobias's face going pale, but there was a raging fire in his eyes that reminded him of James Potter. Peter knew that rage all too well—it was when James was going to do something drastic. And what was the most drastic thing Tobias LeStrange could do at this moment?

Not kill Sirius Black.

It was a large assumption, but Peter felt the reality of the situation hit him hard. He knew it wouldn't be long before Sirius found out how and where Peter had been hiding all this time. But he had hoped that the Heir to the Dark Lord would have gotten to him before it was too late.

When the news had broken out, he thought he was still safe with Ron, but as tensions heated with the other five friends- and the fact that Sirius had already broken in before, he wasn't sure if being in Ron's care was still the best idea.

And not to mention the Granger girl's cat, who had been eyeing him since the beginning of the school year. He was sure that the cat knew _who_ he was, but he also knew that his secret could not be revealed because Crookshanks wasn't an animagus. But he was still running out of time.

Peter continued to pace back and forth, trying to think of a plan to save himself. He struggled greatly, knowing that he didn't have anyone to help him. The Dark Lord was dead. Everyone else in the ranks saw him as a coward and unworthy of the dark mark. And the people who could actually help him, were dead. Buried in the ruins of Azkaban.

He had to do this on his own. Under his own influence.

"Think Wormtail, think!" He hissed, striking his temple with his palm.

He knew he would not be able to fight off Sirius a second time, which was why he relied so greatly on Tobias LeStrange to do it. The boy had been so driven at first, and now that drive had been taken away. But who else would have enough anger and passion built up in them to off Sirius Black once and for all?

It then clicked. Draco Malfoy.

 _It's in his blood._ He thought. He knew how much the Malfoy clan loved to bathe in glory and accolades. The Malfoy boy wouldn't pass this up- to be the wizard who caught and ended Sirius Black's terrible reign- it would be all over the Daily Prophet. The news would reach Russia, maybe even the States.

But Peter had to convince him first.

Draco Malfoy was Tobias's right hand man- how could he convince him to go against LeStrange?

The answer came, but it made Peter shiver with fear in his spot. It would be risky, he knew it. But it had to be done. He wrung his hands together, an unsure wave washing through his stomach.

Sirius Black had to die. No matter the cost.

* * *

"So this is your plan?" Snape seethed. " _Marrying Bellatrix LeStrange_?!"

LeStrange Manor had been empty since Tobias returned to Hogwarts. Bellatrix had been spending most of time at Malfoy Manor, being transformed into the perfect Slytherin wife for Crouch Jr. But they all knew better…

But though the manor was empty, the two wizards held their meeting in the dungeons, where Snape had been held hostage during the Christmas holidays. The smell of the concrete walls still gave the dark-haired wizard chills.

Bartemius Crouch shrugged. "It's the best plan we have, Severus."

The other man scoffed. "No, it's the best plan _you_ have. And quite frankly, the worse one. Bellatrix _works_ for Lucius."

Bartemius Crouch ignored Severus and was a bit annoyed that the wizard wasn't catching on to his actual plan. He knew that Bellatrix and Lucius were plotting against him—he expected nothing less from the duo.

"If you honestly think Bellatrix is going to stay silent because you are her husband— "

"I'm not expecting her to." Crouch responded shortly. "If anything, she may bring me closer to Malfoy than being Heir to the Throne ever could."

Snape frowned even deeper. "The only thing she will get you closer to is your demise. Your plan will take months to prepare, weeks to execute."

"I have all the time in the world."

"No. You don't."

Snape caught himself after he had spoken the words. He wasn't sure that he had said them until he saw Crouch's face of uncertainty.

"And that means what?" asked Crouch Jr.

The other wizard sighed. "There is something I've been withholding from you, Bartemius. But with everything that's happened, it is only fair to tell you now."

Snape then told him everything. Lord Voldemort ordering Blaise Zabini to change the past, leading to the creation of the alternate timeline they were living in now. The fact that the end of time was coming and it was coming soon, and that the only person who could save them all—wanted nothing to do with the Order or anyone else for that matter.

Crouch Jr. was speechless, sinking into the nearest chair he could find. "Who else knows about this?"

"Just the Order." Snape admitted.

"So we're all going to die? Sucked into a what—timeless black hole?" The man chuckled darkly. "And our best hope is Quirrell? He's a blood traitor, Severus. Not only that, but…" He put his head in his hands. "It's too much. This isn't the life I signed up for."

"This isn't a life anyone signed up for." Said Snape. "But we're here. So whatever plan you have Crouch, I suggest you move the timetable up. The end of time may be inevitable, but I refuse to die knowing there was something we could've done to stop it."

"Then let's stop focusing on Lucius and focus on this!" Crouch Jr. said desperately, regaining his strength to stand up.

The black-haired wizard shook his head. "Lucius still has to be stopped. Even if there is a chance that ending his rule will slow the timeline, we must take it."

"Even if it doesn't," The other man argued back. "everything still falls back on Quirrell. If he doesn't go back and fix Zabini's mess, we're all screwed anyway."

Snape had no comeback for this. He was only saying the things he told himself every night. That they still had time to make this right. That as long as they stopped Lucius, and Bellatrix, and whoever else was reigning havoc on the wizarding community—they would be alright. Until time ran out.

"You're right." The wizard said.

Crouch nodded. "I can call off the wedding. And we can focus on getting Quirrell to fix the timeline."

"No." Snape said immediately. "If you call off now, Lucius and Bellatrix will grow suspicious. And we don't need anyone else finding out about this. If anything, try to push it back as far as you can, to give us more time to convince Quirrell."

"Affirmative." The other wizard said. He slouched back into his chair again. "It's times like this I wish I was back in Azkaban."

Snape frowned. "You would have been dead."

"I would have been free."

* * *

He had finally found him. All this time—and his target had been hiding in plain sight. He could literally smell him. How could he have not known? How could he have missed this small oversight? It made perfect sense. And tonight, he would be a free man.

Tonight, Peter Pettigrew would die.

And his killer? Who other than the notorious Sirius Black, who had been charged with murdering Peter the first time. But this go-round, it would be the truth. Sirius had missed so much in his life—so much in his godson's life. All because of one man—one cowardly, measly little man.

He snuck up the steps to Gryffindor tower for the last time. In his pocket, a list of the passwords to the Gryffindor common room. He assumed that whoever lost it, would be in the worst of troubles- should his plan go wrong. His knife was burning in his pocket, ready to be used on the man who cost him twelve years of his life. It was the reason he broke out of Azkaban. The reason he had been hiding around at Hogwarts these past months.

"The password, my good man." Sir Cadogan demanded promptly. Black recognized the incompetent man in the portrait, and realized that this was certainly his lucky day.

The ex-con pulled out the list, noticing there were seven passwords—each one for the day of the week.

"What is today?" He said casually.

"It is Monday." The portrait responded.

"Excellent." Sirius responded. "Gurgleflirt."

Sir Cadogan smiled. "Correct, my dear lad. But if don't mind me asking, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Well, of course I'm a student." The ex-con lied smoothly. "Otherwise, where would I have gotten this list?"

"Of course you are. Silly me. These late nights…have me seeing any and everything. You couldn't possibly imagine—"

But Sirius did not stay to listen to what else Sir Cadogan had to say. He transformed into his dog form, sneaking his way up the steps to the third-year boys' dormitory. The door was unlocked, making his job easier. Now, all he had to do was figure out which bed belonged to Ronald Weasley.

He should have known Wormtail had been hiding with the Weasley's all this time. Nobody would have suspected the ginger family to be hiding a cowardly Death Eater in their own home. Even the Weasley's wouldn't have expected that their precious pet rat was a grown man in disguise. It was the perfect hiding spot. But now Sirius was going to expose him for who he was. And send him where he belonged. In hell.

He stood in the middle of the five beds, trying to pinpoint which one belonged to the red-haired boy. He tried to look for a sign that reminded him of Arthur, or even Molly. But it was too dark and too risky to go snooping through the boys' things. But, just as everything else tonight, the answer presented itself.

"Spiders…." He heard the someone say in their sleep. "Get them away….the spiders…"

Something in his gut told him that this voice belonged to the Weasley boy. And the fact that he knew Arthur Weasley also talked in his sleep. It was worth a shot, and the ex-con hoped that it would be the right shot. Otherwise he would've just signed his own death sentence. He creeped to side of the bed, and there he saw him. Ronald Weasley, his red-haired was spread across his pillow, his freckles shining in the pale moonlight.

 _Now._ Sirius thought to himself. _Where is that damn rat?_

He assumed that Peter would be tucked away in the bed with the boy, but he couldn't tell from where he was positioned. So, against his better judgement, he transformed back into himself and walked to the end of the boy's bed. Using his knife, Sirius slashed as quietly as he could through the curtains, making his entrance to Peter's doom.

And as he got closer, the one thing Sirus hoped wouldn't happen…happened.

Ron blinked his eyes opened, and his blue eyes met Sirius's black ones. But all Sirius Black could see was the Dementor's kiss sucking the life out of his soul. Because there was no Peter tucked away in bed with Ronald Weasley. There was only him. Sirius Black, notorious murderer, standing above a third-year's bed….with a knife.

 _Shit._

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHH!" Ron screamed loudly. "NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ron!" He heard another boy say. "What's going on?!"

Sirius quickly transformed, running out of the dormitory, out of the Gryffindor common room, and out of the Hogwarts castle. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Not until he was as far away from Hogwarts as he could get. Once he was hidden safely away in the Forbidden Forest, he transformed back into his human form.

"FUCK!" He screamed, punching the nearest tree. He was so close. Peter was in the castle, or somewhere near it. That Sirius knew for a fact. But where? And how much time did he have left until it was too late. Tonight he barely got away—next time he might not be so lucky.

Next time. He would need help.

* * *

"Mister Quirrell?" He heard someone say. "Mister Quirrell…"

Quirinus Quirrell opened his eyes, frowning deeply when they met a horrible, blinding white light. He knew he wasn't in his apartment, but he was still confused nonetheless. The last place he remembered being was his apartment, talking to Sirius. Sirius then left, and then…nothing.

"Where am I?" He asked the voice.

"St. Mungo's." The voice responded. The wizard turned his head, his eyes meeting those of one of the hospital nurses. She was medium height, brown hair, green eyes. And she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"What is your name?"

The nurse smiled. "Diana."

"How did I get here?" The patient asked.

"Your neighbor in your apartment building found you passed out in your apartment." Diana explained. "Luckily, they were of magical blood and brought you here. Mister Quirrell, do you have anybody we can contact about your condition?"

Quirrell frowned. "My…condition?"

"Yes, ummmm…" Diana then frowned, and the wizard felt a dark cloud drift over his head. "We ran some tests, and it seems you passed out due to alcohol poisoning, but there is something else.

And with the dark cloud came the rain.

"You have liver cancer."

The words felt like a knife, cutting through Quirrell's heart. He had finally done it. He had pushed everyone away and pushed his own limits to the edge. Now he would die here, like a coward—like the drunk he was.

"How long do I have?"

He expected the nurse to flip through her pieces of parchment, to tell him some educated estimate, but Diana only stood there.

"A few months, at the most." She said softly. "We've did all we could, but with the extent of the cancer, the damage to your liver from the alcohol, and your…muggle genes. Any treatment we give you would only make it worse."

 _Of course._ Quirrell thought. He turned away from the nurse, trying to process everything he had just learned. He was dying. He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Nurse Diana even more uncomfortable than she already was. He assumed this is what he deserved for pushing everyone away. To die a drunk in St. Mungo's.

Though he had a few more months to live, the wizard picked today to look back on his life. Growing up a half-blood with his muggle mother, who didn't understand the magical genes in his blood, but enjoyed it nonetheless. Attending Hogwarts until his 7th year, graduating top of his class, but still with a hunger for greater knowledge. Which led him to meeting one Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, and falling victim to his slick persuasion and become one of his. A Death Eater. It wasn't until the First Wizarding War started that he realized he had made a mistake, and vowed himself to the Order of the Phoenix after the deaths of James and Lily Potter.

11 years later, Dumbledore hired him as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, something Quirrell always dreamed of. And he did his best, but he was distracted. That very year, was the year Tobias LeStrange began his education at the school—and Quirrell felt some sort of obligation to tell the boy the truth. So he devised a plan, a project. To have LeStrange and his group of friends investigate and discover the truths of the Philosopher's Stone, knowing it would eventually lead them to the forbidden third-floor corridor.

He wished he had died that night, instead of surviving with a broken leg. He was naïve to believe that the young boy would understand the truth he was trying to tell him. And in consequence, he felt the wild and powerful wrath of the young LeStrange boy. Destroying the corridor and leaving Quirrell alone with a broken leg.

He was then exposed of his betrayal to the Dark Lord and was cast out of his ranks. The Order saw no more need of him, seeing as he couldn't spy on Lord Voldemort anymore. He was fired from Hogwarts for endangering the students' lives. He had lost it all, because he wanted to be the hero. He wanted to do the right thing.

That day, he swore he would never do it again, and he pushed away any and everyone who tried to make him see different. He became a drunk to make himself seem undependable and reckless. He stopped studying and looking for new knowledge. He went from sleeping in libraries to sleeping in pubs. He became the exact opposite of the man he was before. And where did that get him?

He had no friends. His mother was dead. The last person who actually gave a damn about him—Quirrell had sent him off to his death. And now he was here, dying. But now, after all this time, he was finally realizing—that he hadn't lost everything that night. He lost everything when he turned his back on everything he once believed in. He had been so stubborn.

But not anymore. He refused to die this coward's death.

"Diana." He said suddenly, surprised that the nurse had never left his room.

She perked up a bit at his voice. "Yes, Mister Quirrell?"

"There is someone you can contact for me. Someone I must speak to.

"And who would that be?"

Quirrell paused, taking a deep breath. "Albus Dumbledore."

* * *

Blaise could barely breath as he locked himself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was the closest spot he could find, and he needed it bad. He could feel himself about to fall into the darkness, succumbing to another episode. But this time it felt worse than before. He tried to fight it, tried to think of what he might see- but the pain was too strong.

He had done all he could to stay away from his old friends and anything else that might send him into a nostalgic episode. But he assumed it wasn't enough. His head felt like the whole Hogwarts castle had fallen on top of him. His body shook furiously, and he was growing weaker by the second.

The tan Slytherin grabbed a hold of one of the bathroom sinks, trying to hold himself up. Observing his reflection, he saw his face growing paler, and his white oxford was drenched in sweat.

"Ew," He heard Moaning Myrtle say, though it sounded as if she was in another room. "You look worse than me. And I'm dead."

It was the last thing he heard. The darkness had caught up with him. Snatched him up and took him away. Away from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Away from Hogwarts…

 _Light. Blaise opened his eyes, no longer feeling the pain he had before. He found himself sitting in a white chair, and he was dressed in his best white suit. Beside him was Tracey Davis, his betrothed- beside them were their parents._

 _He blinked several times, trying to grasp where he was. Everything was covered in white, the ground, the chairs, the lights. He finally discovered that he was in the backyard of LeStrange manor. Tobias's battling field had been turned into a...banquet? What was this?_

 _The answer came with the sound of music. Everyone stood up- Blaise didn't even feel himself doing the same. The crowd turned towards the aisle in the middle of the battling field, and the tan Slytherin came to his senses. This was a wedding? But for who?_

 _He looked around, trying to spot familiar faces. He found them all at the altar. Tobias LeStrange, also donning a white suit like Blaise's. Blaise also noticed that LeStrange looked different, as if he had killed a man, but was trying to mask his pain with something else. He also noticed Draco, whose expression he couldn't read. But where was Nott?_

 _The music picked up as the first person walked down the aisle. Parkinson, who was also wearing a white dress with her long black hair laying gracefully down her back. And behind her was Astoria and Daphne Greengrass. They each held a brown basket, which the tan Slytherin assumed held flowers. But as they tossed them down the aisle, a sick feeling grasped him._

 _Falling one by one were red rose petals, as dark as blood. They fell slowly, hitting the ground softly- like feathers. He watched as they stepped one foot at a time, all in sync. He couldn't look away, and no one else could. He could only hear the music and the sound of the girls' footsteps touching the ground. The feeling inside him grew worse as he saw the tears fall down Daphne's face. This was supposed to be a wedding…_

 _But it felt far worse than that._

 _Each girl made their way to the altar, where they stood beside their betrotheds- all except Daphne, who tried her best to hide her tears from the crowd watching them._

 _The tone of the music changed into something melodic and ceremonious, but the dreadful feeling inside Blaise grew stronger. And at the peak of his unsettling nerve, came Bellatrix LeStrange._

 _Dressed in a white gown, she walked down the aisle of white cloth and blood red roses. To one, she might've looked beautiful. But to Blaise, he saw something evil and ungodly radiating from her. It felt too good to be true._

 _They watched her walk down the aisle. The tan Slytherin looked to the altar once more, and there standing was Bartemius Crouch Jr. His eyes never left hers, and everyone could tell this was the happiest he had ever been. Like the rest of the wedding party, his wedding robes were white, with a rose, as bloody as the rest of them, pinned to the front._

 _He seemed to be the only one who felt like there was an actually wedding happening. But something didn't feel right._

 _When Bellatrix finally reached her groom, the officiary of the engagement revealed himself- Lucius Malfoy._

 _And like someone had struck him in the head again, Blaise's temple started to pound. Whatever he was watching- was about to come to a close. But he needed more information. He wasn't sure where he was- or when he was- in time._

 _"We are brought here today…" Lucius began. "To bring two families together..."_

 _The pain intensified, as if each word that left Malfoy's mouth was shutting the door to whatever Blaise was seeing. The voice began to fade as the pain grew stronger. But the tan Slytherin forced himself to hear the rest, to fight it. As if he never wanted to return to reality._

 _"Bellatrix Druella LeStrange." Lucius said. "And Bartemius Ommin Crouch, Junior."_

 _The whiteness of the wedding was beginning to turn dark. The red roses shriveled black with death. Something horrible was coming but Blaise could not tell. The pain wouldn't allow him to focus on anything else other than Lucius's voice._

 _"On this day…" Blaise struggled to listen as the darkness took a hold of him once more._

 _"June 7th, 1994…"_

Blaise gasped loudly, finding himself once again in a familiar area. He was no longer in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as he gathered himself, he desperately searched for answers. Was he in another episode? Was he dead? What had happened?

"Mister Zabini!" Someone said urgently. "Poppy, go get Dumbledore, he has woken up!"

There were hurried footsteps, and Blaise found himself meeting eyes with Professor McGonagall. She wore a worried expression, one that you may see on someone else, when their loved one was in bad health.

As he breathing slowed to its normal pace, the tan Slytherin found himself lying on a cot in Dumbledore's office. Someone must have found him when he gave in to his episode and brought him here. His heart skipped a beat once he realized what that meant.

There was no more hiding. He would have to tell them the truth. Especially what he had saw tonight.

The doors to the headmaster's office opened once more, and Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore entered. They walked over to where McGonagall and Blaise were sitting. Not sure how this encounter would begin, Blaise let Dumbledore initiate the conversation.

"What did you see?" He asked calmly, and Blaise felt his heart race with fear. _What now?_

 _Tell them._ A voice in his head said. _It's the only way you'll understand what you saw._ He thought about Hermione, and what she might do in this situation. He even thought about what LeStrange would do. For the past three years, he had avoided a personal confrontation with the Hogwarts Headmaster. He realized now because everything was always Tobias LeStrange's story- and now this was his.

"Blaise," He said calmly once more, but this time with a sense of urgency. "You may be our only hope in stopping this. We will help you all we can, but it is you who must ultimately help us all. Can you do that?"

The boy felt a lump in his throat. He never _helped_ anyone. He was always ruining someone else's life. And even if he was helping someone, it was helping making their lives worse than it already was.

"We need your help, Blaise." The headmaster continued. "Now more than ever."

Though it made him sick at the thought, the tan Slytherin nodded his head. This was his mess, and he had to clean it up. All he could think about was Granger, and how he wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her and he could have stopped it. His whole mission was to prevent the destruction of time, and now that it was here….he was getting cold feet.

"I think…" The boy said slowly. "I think I saw the future, Professor."

 **Author's Note: And the plot thickens.**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	61. POA23: A Difference in Opinion

Afraid to be strong

And too strong to be afraid

Caught up in the days

Which we staying and running away

Can't be a girl and just do what I'm told

Can't let this pillow just swallow me whole

Gotta go, find the strength to carry this low

~ Let Me Live x Kehlani

Chapter 61: A Difference of Opinion

"It _wasn't_ a nightmare!" Ron argued back. "I woke up, and Sirius Black was standing over me! _HOLDING A KNIFE!_ "

"Shhhh Ronald." Hermione said quickly. "Do you want the whole school to hear you?"

Draco snorted. "The whole school already knows, Granger."

It was true. The whole school knew about the event of last night. Sirius Black had snuck into Hogwarts…again. And this time his target wasn't Tobias LeStrange, or even the beloved Sword of Gryffindor. It was Ronald Weasley. The Gryffindor Tower was put on locked down in the wee hours of the morning, while the professors and castle ghosts searched the school up and down, left and right, for the notorious murder. But once again…Sirius Black had disappeared without a trace.

Ron gathered all his friends, including Tracey and Pansy, and brought them to the library, where he would tell him his story—giving them facts, instead of the rumors and lies that were now being spread around the castle. Pansy was the first of many who rebuked his story.

"That doesn't even make sense, Weasley." She argued back. "How did Sirius Black even get through the portrait hole?"

Ron's raging blue eyes then shot to Neville, who had been dead silent throughout the Gryffindor's story. His face proved guilty once everyone else began looking at him as well. Neville sighed heavily, deciding that telling them all the truth wouldn't be as bad as the punishments he received from McGonagall and his grandmother.

"Sir Cadogan had been changing the passwords so much, I decided to write down all of them. Just so I wouldn't forget." He added frantically. "But then I lost the list. But I never thought that _he_ would find them."

Neville shuffled his feet nervously under the table. He had already been punished enough. Professor McGonagall had banned him from the remaining Hogsmeade visits, gave him detention until the term ended, and forbid every Gryffindor from giving him any of the new passwords. And to make matters worse, the news had gotten to his grandmother, who sent him a very detailed howler that very morning. He couldn't take another hit, especially not from his friends.

"If Ron hadn't almost died," Tracey started. "this would be hilarious."

Ron frowned. "Really?"

"I mean think about it," Theo pitched, trying to hold his own laughter in. "Neville loses his list of passwords, and out of _all_ the people who could have found it, it was Sirius Black. And Sir Cadogan…. _let him in._ "

Hermione shot a look at him. "I'm having trouble finding the humor in this."

"Can we stray away from trying to find my near-death experience funny?!" Ron seethed. "And can we talk about _why_ Sirius Black was in Gryffindor Tower trying to kill me?"

For that question, nobody had the answer. Even the professors were confused as to why Black went after the Weasley boy. But with all the unanswered questions and no leads on where Black had gone, Dumbledore increased Hogwarts' security to the max. Sir Cadogan had been fired from his post and the Fat Lady returned, but only with the condition that she was to be protected. Which led to the army of trolls that guarded her portrait at Gryffindor Tower. Filch had gone to the extreme, patching up mouse holes and training the doors to recognize the escaped convict. There was even a new janitor—which most students believed to be an Auror in disguise. Since people rarely saw his face.

Draco shrugged. "A ploy to get to Tobias again?"

"A very bad one." Tobias said.

"But that still doesn't make sense." Pansy argued. "Sirius Black hasn't been back in the castle since Halloween, and the moment he shows up…he goes after _Weasley_?"

"No need to be modest about it, Pans." Tracey said mockingly.

Ron nodded in agreement. "But she's right! Why me? Why not Neville or even Hermione?"

"Maybe something happened while he was away," Hermione reasoned. "And now he's more dangerous than ever. Acting out irrationally."

"Like taking out all of LeStrange's friends." Tracey said. "One by one. Until he gets to you." Her striking eyes met Tobias's.

The Slytherin heir swallowed hard. A bad feeling surfaced in the back of his mind—what if Tracey was right? What if Black was coming after all his friends, and Ron was just the first of many attacks? He had to act now, he had to do something about Black.

"I wanted to wait until I developed a plan, but this can't wait." He said. All eyes were on him, waiting for his big announcement. "I want to send Black back to Azkaban."

No one said anything, but he noticed Tracey Davis sizing him up on his decree. He ignored it, continuing.

"Last night was an eye opener for me. I vowed to kill Sirius Black for the wrong reasons—to uphold my grandfather's legacy. But this is my legacy now, and I choose to put him down the right way."

"And how many more of your friends will have to escape the wrath of Sirius Black, LeStrange?" Tracey asked. Their eyes met again, and Tobias knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about Ron. What if Black came after him again?

It was the same thing Draco was thinking. He didn't care if Sirius Black came after him, he could defend himself. He was most worried about Hermione—what if Black came after her? What if he came after Neville? Or Theo? How long would it even take to put Black back in Azkaban? And how many more people would the convict go after until it was done?

"No one would have to escape anything, Tracey." Tobias explained. "Dumbledore has the entire castle on lockdown."

"Yet you still sneak out of the castle anytime you choose." The girl snapped back. "Who's to say while you and Pansy were down at the lake last night, that Sirus Black didn't use one of your escape tunnels to sneak in?"

"That's not fair!" Neville roared.

"Black coming after Weasley to get to LeStrange isn't fair either, Longbottom. But look what just happened."

Neville went red, but he couldn't argue against the facts.

"It isn't fair." Draco said. "But she's right Tobias. Black doesn't even have an Azkaban to go back to."

Another fact that Tobias couldn't argue against. Everyone had saw in the Daily Prophet that Azkaban had been destroyed and there weren't many survivors. He knew his mother was one, but that was all he knew…

"I'm not saying kill him." Draco added on, seeing the look of disappointment on his cousin's face. "But we need another way."

"And fast."

* * *

"We gave you one job." Snape seethed. " _One job!_ And you've managed to mess that up."

The Order was not happy, not happy at all. And there was only one person to blame—Sirius Black. Just like everyone at Hogwarts, the members of the Order received the news that notorious murder Sirius Black had been spotted once again at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And his target—Ronald Weasley.

"You let your _pride_ and your stupidity get in the way!" Snape raged on. "We needed you to convince Quirrell to fix the timeline, and instead you _leave_! And for what?! To pull a knife out on a thirteen-year-old boy!"

"For the last time," Sirius grunted. " _I was after the rat!"_

"Enough with the rat!" Arthur Weasley roared. "That was my son, Sirius! _MY SON!"_

Sirius eyed him. "And you son has been housing a murdering coward for the past twelve years, Arthur. And I almost had him!"

"You had nothing!" Molly argued. "Ron wrote us weeks ago saying that Scabbers was gone. If you would've came to us first, we would have told you."

Sirius shook his head. "But he's still in the castle, Molly, I smelled him. He's got you all fooled, but not me."

"You're delusional." Snape sneered. "I don't even know why we are even allowing you to sit here."

"Because this is _my_ house."

"And you barely wish to stay in it." The other wizard retorted. "If it were up to me, you would be halfway to the Ministry by now, awaiting the Dementor's Kiss."

"That's enough, Severus." Lupin said tiredly.

"Thank you, Moony." Said Sirius.

"That wasn't for you, Padfoot." The wizard responded. "I'm just sick of you two arguing."

Snape scoffed. "Hardly an argument. An argument requires both parties to have some type of intelligence."

The ex-con laughed. "He's got you all fooled. But I'm going to find him."

His best friend frowned. "Sirius, the next time you step foot in the castle, the dementors will come after you. And we won't be able to help you then."

"They won't. Once I've proven myself a free man."

"Peter is _dead,_ Padfoot!" Lupin snapped, surprising everyone with his temper. "You killed him, whether you believe it or not! He's dead—and we will be too if you don't get a hold of yourself!"

Sirius stared long and hard at Lupin, waiting for Lupin to say something else. Something that would ease this tension between them. But it never came. The words cut through him like a knife. Out of everyone, he expected Lupin to believe him—to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even when he did mess up. But that wasn't the case anymore. He could now see that he was by himself on this matter.

He stood up. "Believe what you want." He spat. "But he isn't dead. Alternate timeline or not, I will die a free man." He left soon after. To where? No one knew. Snape, the Weasleys, and Mad-Eye left soon after, leaving Lupin and Tonks in the House of Black.

"Do you really believe that?" Tonks asked him. "Do you really believe Sirius killed him?"

Lupin closed his eyes. "No."

"Then, why did you say that to him?"

"Because he is my bestfriend, and I would rather die with my bestfriend, than watch him get himself killed because of a rat. I wanted to do more for him, more than I did for James."

Tonks laid a hand on top of his own. "James's death wasn't your fault, Remus. And if you truly care for Sirius, then you would help him instead of pushing him away."

He turned to look at her, and realized that she made a good point. He knew deep down that Sirius was going to keep going after Peter, no matter what he said. Whether their ex-best friend was dead or not, Sirius wouldn't be satisfied until he knew for sure.

"Wouldn't you rather spend the time we do have left with your bestfriend? Instead of arguing with him?"

Lupin took a deep breath, realizing how silly he felt. "I would." He answered.

* * *

"Mister Quirrell?" He heard Diana say. "Mister Dumbledore is here."

Quirrell groaned as he sat up in his hospital bed. To his side, he saw Dumbledore taking a seat in the chair nearest to his bed. Nurse Diana stood behind him.

"It's alright, Diana." He said. "I'll be fine."

She nodded, leaving his hospital room to check on the other patients. He was now here with Dumbledore, who was wearing his usual periwinkle robes and moon-rimmed glasses. He wasn't sure where to start. Would he start with an apology? Or just come out with it and say he'll fix the timeline?

"She's pretty." Dumbledore said, smiling at him.

"She's beautiful." Quirrell responded, unconsciously. "I hate I didn't end up here sooner."

The old wizard laughed. "It's the way the world works, Quirinus. How are you feeling?"

"Useful. For the first time in a long time. I can see how ironic that sounds."

"Ironic yes. But it's never too late to change." And Quirrell saw that hopeful twinkle in the Professor's eyes.

"I think it's time for me to do the right thing, Professor." He said. "For the last time."

"I think you're right."

Quirrell focused his eyes on the muggle television set in front of him. He had asked Diana if they had one, and surprisingly they did. She explained that most muggleborn and half-blood patients ask for them while they're at St. Mungo's. He only needed it for one show. A soap opera that his mother used to watch.

"My mother used to watch this every day when I came home from school." Quirrell said, losing himself in a reverie. "I could hear it from outside, before I even unlocked the door. That's how I knew she was home. And in her own way, I guess, that was her letting me know she was alright. It stayed that way as I got older. 'Whenever you hear this TV, Quirinus, you'll know I'm okay.' She'd say." He laughed, but then his face turned into one of pure seriousness.

"The night…the night Bellatrix killed her...I didn't hear the TV. And that was the night I realized, I couldn't keep going like this. I tried to fight it—tried to force myself to believe I wasn't that person anymore—and look where it's gotten me…"

Dumbledore placed a hand on the wizard's hospital bed. "You're still that person, Quirinus. Whether you want to be or not. I hate that it came to this for you to realize it, but I'm glad you decided to give yourself another chance."

"I turned my back on everything I believed in, pushed everyone away. To be honest, Professor, I didn't think you would even show up."

"Well," The old wizard began. "you'll see that you haven't pushed everyone away."

There was a small silence, and Quirrell knew there was something else he needed to confess to Dumbledore. It was all over the Prophet this morning, and the wizard couldn't help that the commotion was partially his fault. He was the one who told Sirius that Pettigrew was alive and scampering around Hogwarts.

"I read the Prophet this morning." He said. "I was the one who gave Sirius the information on Pettigrew. I didn't think he would go that far and attack the Weasley boy though. Tell Molly and Arthur I'm sorry."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll make sure they receive the message. But, and just out of curiosity—you honestly think Peter Pettigrew is alive?"

"It's more of an assumption." Quirrell laughed. "Something to get Sirius out of my hair. But you remember when we first heard about Peter? And all they found was his finger? I didn't put two and two together then, but it came to me when Sirius changed from his man to dog form. Peter's animagus was a rat—and twelve years ago exactly—"

"Molly and Arthur Weasley gave their son a pet rat for his birthday." Dumbledore finished the sentence. He smiled. "A strong assumption, indeed."

Quirrell nodded. "They brought me that rat right before they gave it to him. They wanted me to check him for any diseases, etcetera. I remember, because the rat was missing a finger. We were all in mourning for Peter, I didn't even stop to think…"

"And Peter Pettigrew has been running wild all these years." The old wizard said softly.

"And Sirius won't stop until he finds him, which is why I must do this before things become worse. Before everyone loses everything."

Dumbledore gave him another golden smile. The old wizard was beyond proud that Quirinus Quirrell had gathered the strength to be the man he once was before. But a huge part of him was still heartbroken that it took the man this long to make his decision. Dumbledore knew he did all he could, sent all the help he could find, but for some reason it never felt like enough.

 _This is the way the world works, Albus._ He thought.

"Then, we must prepare you." The old wizard said next. "As soon as you check out of here, come by the House of Black. It's time to put things back in Order."

Quirrell chuckled, catching on to the Order of the Phoenix secret phrase. Dumbledore stood up and left the hospital room, leaving Quirrell alone with the muggle Television.

* * *

Blaise waited impatiently in the library for Hermione to arrive. Every minute that passed by was another minute towards another futuristic episode. He was afraid that the Gryffindor witch would arrive during one of his episodes, where he would have no choice but to ignore her and go straight to Dumbledore. He sighed deeply, remembering the Headmaster's orders.

 _"When you feel another episode coming on, you come straight here or find a professor." Dumbledore said. His voice was calm but demanding, and Blaise knew he meant business._

He felt the weight lift off his shoulders when he told Dumbledore what he had seen last night. The tan Slytherin had seen the wonders Dumbledore could do when someone was in a predicament, he had seen it first hand during the whole Chamber of Secrets investigation with LeStrange. It was good to know that the Professor was on his side this time.

"Sorry I'm late!" He heard Hermione say, quickly taking the seat in front of him. "I had to talk Professor McGonagall out of giving Theo detention."

Blaise raised a brow. "What for?"

"He transfigured his beetle into a spider… _again._ " She rolled her eyes. "And you know how Ron is about spiders."

The tan Slytherin laughed, knowing exactly how Weasley felt about spiders. But his leg still bounced impatiently under the library table, waiting for him to get to the subject of conversation.

"What's going on?" The witch finally asked, seeing the urgency through Blaise's laughter.

It was then the Slytherin's leg stopped bouncing and all the things he wanted to say became tangled- a destructive ball in his head. He didn't know where to start, or how to even explain what he saw. He took a deep breath, trying to remember how he explained it last night in Dumbledore's office.

"Last night I had another episode." He said.

Hermione frowned. "But…but that's impossible. You've isolated yourself from everything that could cause one." Her frown went deeper. "Unless…it's me."

" _No!_ " Blaise said. "No. It's not you. It's not anything really, because this time I didn't go into the past. I saw the future, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes went wide. _The future?_ She thought. Did this mean Zabini's condition was getting better or worse? But despite that, the witch was curious to know what exactly the tan Slytherin had seen.

"What did you see?" She asked him.

"A wedding." Blaise admitted. "But it felt worse than a wedding."

"Whose wedding was it?"

"LeStrange's mother and Crouch Sr.'s son. But the whole time I was there, I felt something horrible coming. It felt like…it felt like the end of time."

Hermione was speechless. If what Blaise said was true, they didn't have much time to fix the timeline. Something terrible was going to happen, at Tobias's mother's wedding. And if that was true, they needed to tell Dumbledore. There was nothing two third-years could do to stop this.

"We need to go to Dumbledore about this." She said urgently. "If what you're saying is true Blaise—"

"I've already told him." The Slytherin interrupted. "That's another reason I asked you to be here. Dumbledore wants to talk with you, about my problem…and yours."

Hermione swallowed hard then. If Blaise told Dumbledore everything, and the witch was pretty sure he did, then Dumbledore knew about the time turner she had and the connection it had with Blaise's time master. This wouldn't be her first time in Dumbledore's office, but it still made her nervous. She knew she would have to tell the Headmaster everything she knew, and confess as to why she never came forward with the truth earlier.

"Dumbledore says I'm going to have to go back." Blaise said suddenly, breaking through Hermione's thoughts. "To the original timeline."

"Oh." The witch said breathlessly, and something snapped in her chest. She knew that this Blaise didn't belong here, but she had enjoyed his company all the same. It was nice to see a different side to the tan Slytherin, so nice that she had even developed a small crush on the boy. But deep down she knew that this version of Blaise Zabini wasn't here to stay. And that one day she would wake up and he would be gone, replaced with her timeline's version—the rude and manipulative Blaise Zabini.

"I asked if there was anything I could do." He continued, his voice low and solemn. "But with me now seeing the future, Dumbledore says it would be too dangerous for me to stay."

Hermione sighed. "When do you leave?"

"I don't know yet. Dumbledore said he had to find the other piece of the puzzle. Whatever that means, but hopefully…it takes him a while to find it." Their brown eyes then met, and Blaise decided that he would take the chance.

He leaned over the table, catching the witch by surprise as he pecked her on the lips. Hermione's eyes went wider than before, but her cheeks went hot. She wasn't expecting Zabini to do that. Not now. Not when he had just told her that he would be leaving soon. To another timeline, where she would never see him again.

"I…I have to go." She said, leaving as quickly as she came. Leaving Blaise alone in the library. The boy knew he shouldn't have done it, but he couldn't help it. Time had run out for Blaise Zabini—he had to go home.

Home. Where there wasn't a Hermione Granger who was willing to be his friend, or even reciprocate the same feelings he had for her here. The Hermione Granger he would return to hated his guts, and she had the right to. But he knew it wouldn't be the same when he got back. That no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to hate her back. And that was what hurt him the most.

So he took the chance that he would never get again, probably ruining their friendship in the process. But it was already ruined….

Because he had to go home.

* * *

By Lunch, Ron Weasley was the new Hogwarts celebrity. Everyone had pretty much forgotten that it was Tobias LeStrange who had brought Sirius Black to the castle. Now all anyone wanted to talk about was how Ronald Weasley nearly survived the wrath of the ex-convict.

And the Gryffindor was enjoying every bit of it.

"…I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft…I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down…I open my eyes…and I saw him standing over me…like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair…holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches…"

Draco rolled his eyes as Ron told his story for the hundredth time that day. Theo did his best to ignore the story, but couldn't help falling in line with the others who were intrigued by Ron's tale. Neville flinched every time Ron got to the part where Sirius Black found the passwords, thinking about all the punishments he received that morning. Tobias was indifferent about the situation—his mind stuck on what to do about Black.

"…and he looked at me," Ron continued, telling a group of second-year Ravenclaw girls. "and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he _scampered._ "

"You must have been terrified, Ron." One of the girls said. "I don't know what I would have done had Black been over my bed."

Ron puffed his chest. "Well, you know, I'm used to things like this. I helped fight a giant snake last year."

Draco snorted, causing the red-haired boy to shoot him a look. "Barely."

Another one of the girls looked awe-struck. "You're so brave, Ron."

Ron smirked, but his star-struck attitude quickly went away as Tracey made her way towards the Gryffindor table.

"Yeah…" He said quickly. "Now you all need to go."

The girls frowned and protested as Ron pushed them out of the way, making room for Tracey at the Gryffindor table. Draco laughed at the sight.

"So much for bravery." He teased.

"Quit it, Malfoy."

Tracey sat down, grabbing a handful of chips and a sandwich to eat. "Still telling that god-awful story, Weasley?"

"It isn't _awful_!" Ron protested. "Everyone loves my story."

Tracey turned around, looking at the group of Ravenclaw girls Ron was just talking to. "Yeah, everyone who isn't a guy."

"I've told some guys my story," Ron said, picking up another sandwich. "Isn't that right Theo?"

Theo blinked. "I'm sorry did you say something?"

"My point exactly." The Slytherin girl said, unbothered. "Anyway, another Hogsmeade visit is this Saturday."

Neville sighed. "Hope you guys have fun."

"Nonsense." Theo said. "Just sneak in with Tobias. You'll learn that the best time to visit Hogsmeade, is when you're not supposed to be there at all."

As Neville and Theo went back and forth about why Neville should still come to Hogsmeade, Draco noticed Hermione walking into the Great Hall. She had a look on her face—a look Draco recognized when the witch was in deep thought. But about what? He then noticed Blaise Zabini walking in shortly behind her, and something tightened in his stomach.

"You alright?" He asked once she sat down.

"Huh?" She said. "Oh, yes, I'm fine." She then grabbed a sandwich. "What are we talking about?"

"Neville is banned from going to Hogsmeade, so he's going to use Tobias's map to sneak in." Theo explained.

Her focused then switched. " _What?_ "

"Just kidding." Theo said. "I would never put Longbottom's life in danger like that." He then winked to Neville, but it was with the wrong eye, allowing Hermione to catch his drift.

"No." She pursed her lips. "Do you all actually _think_ when you do things like this?"

Theodore crossed his arms. "You know very well that we aren't _thinking_. How dare you ask a question like that?"

"I'm serious, Theo. Sirius Black just tried to murder Ron last night, and you all are planning to sneak into Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Tracey nodded. "Granger has a point."

"And she's missing the even bigger point." Theo argued. "This is the _last_ Hogsmeade visit. Are we really going to let a psychotic murdering lunatic ruin that?"

Draco raised a brow. "You honestly want us to answer that?"

Theo shook his head. " _Come on._ Tobias, tell them that this is a very important event that requires your attendance."

Tobias had barely been listening to any of the conversations his friends were having at the table. His mind had been revolving around their conversation in the library that morning. He wanted to the right thing, and deliver Sirius Black to the Ministry, but Tracey had brought up a point that he couldn't ignore. Last night, Ron had nearly lost his life. How many more of his friends was Black going to go after before Tobias could catch him?

" _Helloooooo?"_ Theo said, waving his hand in front of the Slytherin's face. "Earth to Tobias."

The Slytherin blinked, coming back to reality. "What?"

"Tobias," Hermione began. "please inform Theodore on how idiotic, and _dangerous,_ it would be for you and Neville to sneak into Hogsmeade this weekend?"

"Well," Tobias started, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "The best time to go to Hogsmeade, is when you're not supposed to be there."

Theo clapped his hands. "Thank you!"

"Tobias, you can't honestly believe that! After all that's happened." The witch protested.

"Which is more reason for me to go," The Slytherin insisted, forming a plan as he spoke. "If I sneak into Hogsmeade this weekend, it'll draw Black out. I won't have any protection, because nobody knows I'm there. Once Black comes after me, we can trap him and deliver him to the Ministry. Nobody else gets hurt."

Draco took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "And if your makeshift plan goes wrong?"

"Of course it's going to go wrong," Ron frowned. "When have any of our plans gone right?"

Theo nodded in agreement. "It's like we make the plan. Execute the plan. The plan goes off the rails. Then we have to throw away the plan and wing it anyway."

"And I rather not lose my life over this one." Ron grumbled, shivering as he thought of last night's event.

"Then, I'll go at it alone." Tobias declared.

"Tobias, you can't!" Hermione cried. "What you're planning is basically suicide!"

"I can't sit around and just wait for the safest opportunity to catch Black, Hermione." Tobias argued back. "He's already went after Ron. Who's next?"

"We can protect ourselves, Tobias." Draco said. "And you remember what Hagrid said, we're stronger together. All we have to do find the right moment where we can _all_ apprehend Black. Until then, we can watch our own asses."

"Can't watch a bloody thing if I'm sleep." Ron said under his breath.

Tobias shook his head. "No, Draco, I can't take that chance. This has to end." And with that, Tobias gathered his things and left the rest at the Gryffindor table. Hermione seemed to be on the brink of tears, while Ron, Neville, and Theodore seemed to have lost their appetite.

"What do we do now?" Theo asked. Nobody knew the answer, each of them conflicted between their own safety, Tobias's safety, and the urgency to capture Sirius Black.

Draco growled, grabbing his things as well, leaving the Great Hall to look for Tobias.

As he pushed opened the doors, the blonde Slytherin caught a glimpse of his cousin's robes wafting around a corridor. He tightened his school bag around his torso before he made his way to it. But before Draco could even reach halfway, he bumped into somebody. The new janitor.

"Watch where you're going!" He growled, growing impatient. But all thoughts of finding Tobias LeStrange disappeared when he was grabbed by the collar and thrown into a broom closet with the janitor. A light clicked on and Draco Malfoy found himself face to face with…

Peter Pettigrew.

"Get your bloody hands off me!" He roared. "Don't you know who my father is?!"

"Oh, I know him." The Janitor responded. "Very well." He then lifted his arming, revealing to Draco his mark—the Dark Mark.

The boy's eyes grew wide. "You're a Death Eater. But how? How did you get into the castle?"

"There was an opening." Peter lied. "But I don't have enough time, Malfoy, I have to warn you."

"Warn me of what?"

Peter bit his nails nervously, preparing to sell his lie. "Your friend, the Weasley boy, he's only the first on Black's list." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment he composed this morning. "I found _this_ …on the grounds near the Forbidden Forest. Black must've dropped it."

Draco looked down at the list, which was dimly lit by the light in the broom closet. He felt his heart drop straight to his stomach as he read the names. At the top, it read _Kill List._ Ron's name was first, then Neville's, then his own, Theo's…and Hermione's. And at the bottom, Tobias LeStrange.

"I would've given it to Dumbledore." Peter explained. "But he wouldn't have done what was necessary. Black is a menace. He won't stop until everyone on this list is dead. He must be stopped."

The blonde Slytherin looked back at the Janitor, who he found very familiar, but couldn't recall where he had recognized him from. The man almost resembled a rat, as if Scabbers had been reincarnated as a man. He was the same height, if not shorter than the Slytherin. Draco was surprised that this man was, or had been, a Death Eater. He looked nothing of the sort.

"I'm not in that type of business anymore," He said, handing the man back the list. "You should deliver this to Dumbledore immediately."

Draco's breath hitched as the Janitor grabbed him again, pushing him into the shelves of cleaning products and old rags.

"Dumbledore won't do what needs to be _done._ " He urged, his arms shaking. "Your friends are in danger! And the only way to save them is to eliminate the problem. And who better to do it than you, a Malfoy?"

Draco remained silent.

"How many of your friends will you let Black murder before you gain the guts to do what's necessary?"

The Janitor shoved the list into Draco's chest, where it drifted slowly to the closet floor. The door opened once more, and the man left Draco alone. The blonde Slytherin bent over, picking up Black's kill list, reading the names over. He thought about what Tracey had said earlier in the library.

 _"And how many more of your friends will have to escape the wrath of Sirius Black, LeStrange?"_

He had agreed with her, wholeheartedly, but stayed silent for Tobias's sake. He believed in Tobias, he always had. They always found a better way through their problems, but this time…the better way would cost them too much. Tobias was right…this had to end. But it was time to do what was necessary than what was right.

Draco folded the parchment and tucked it away in his robes.

Tobias may have changed his ways, but that didn't mean Draco had to. He was a Malfoy. And it was the Malfoy code to protect those he cared about, no matter what.

* * *

That Saturday, everyone met in the Great Hall for breakfast. They all sat, eating their breakfast as if each one of them didn't have an ulterior motive for today's trip to Hogsmeade.

Hermione set her mind to find Blaise. She hadn't spoken to him since that afternoon in the library, where he had told her he would be returning to his own time—and where he had kissed her. She wished she hadn't left so abruptly, but it had all caught her off guard.

Blaise kissing her wasn't the problem, the problem was that he kissed her and that he would be leaving. And that the next time she would see him, truly see him, he would be the rude and disgusting Blaise Zabini he once was. So, Hermione Granger had made the decision to begin her heartbreak early, and tell Blaise she would rather not be friends anymore.

She thought about her decision all week, even crying about it at one point. But she knew it had to be done. She couldn't get any closer to Blaise than she already had, only for him to leave and have her head filled with these memories that wouldn't be able to share with anyone else. It would be torture, to not be able to meet with the tan Slytherin in the library anymore, but it would unbearably painful to pretend to ignore the reality in front of her.

Tobias had his mind set on finding Sirius Black. He had his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map tucked away in his robes, as well as his wand. Once he got to Hogsmeade, he would make himself vulnerable, hopefully drawing the attention of Sirius Black. And once Black appeared before him, Tobias would hit him with a body bind spell, preventing the ex-con from attacking—or disappearing. He would then drag Black's body to the middle of Hogsmeade, where Professor McGonagall would find him, and send him straight back to the Ministry. And while everyone was focused on that, Tobias would sneak back through the secret tunnel in Honeydukes, returning to Hogwarts.

While Tobias was forming his plan, Draco was forming his own. He knew that Tobias was planning to sneak into Hogsmeade, to draw out Sirius Black. He also knew that he needed to get to Black before his cousin did. So he made the plan to follow Tobias—to creep in the shadows like Black would. And once Black showed himself, preparing to come after Tobias, Draco would cast the curse—the most unforgivable curse in the Wizarding World. Silencing Black, forever. He reached in his robes pocket, feeling around for the secondary wand. Of course, he wouldn't use his own for such a thing, so he wrote his father to send him a new one, claiming that his old one was malfunctioning. Once killing Black, Draco would destroy the secondary wand, making it irreparable. Then he would disappear back into the Hogsmeade crowd, his duty being done.

Ron and Theodore had also devised their own plan throughout that week. To find Tobias before he went and got himself killed. They also knew that Tobias was planning to sneak into Hogsmeade to capture Black. And as much as they wanted to see Black back in the hands of the Ministry, they cared about their friend more. They would wait in Honeydukes, waiting for the Slytherin heir to arrive. Once they caught sight of Tobias, they would snatch him up, forcing him to spend the rest of the Hogsmeade visit with them. And if they had to, they would hit him with a sleeping spell, knocking the boy out long enough until they could drag him back through the secret tunnel in Honeydukes and back to the castle. It was a fool proof plan, Theodore said.

And lastly, Neville had his own plan for today. He saw how everyone was at odds about what to do with Sirius Black- how everyone was against Tobias going after him at Hogsmeade. Neville agreed that Tobias shouldn't do it alone, but he also agreed that Sirius Black's reign of terror had to end. After many pep talks, Neville Longbottom decided that he was going to sneak into Hogsmeade with Tobias, and that they would catch Black, together. He thought about last term, when Tobias had risked his life to protect Neville from his grandfather's evil self, and how Neville had ultimately saved them both. The Gryffindor believed that if they could defeat a giant snake and a 16-year-old Lord Voldemort, they could also stop Sirius Black.

"Everyone visiting Hogsmeade, please report to the front doors." Professor McGonagall announced.

The six rose from the table, exchanging goodbyes, leaving in different directions. Ron, Theo, Hermione, and Draco made their way to the castle front doors, each of their hearts pounding with the plan they had set. Neville did his best to follow Tobias, who was moving quickly down the corridors, away from the Great Hall and away from the castle doors. He felt his heart racing, but he pushed himself to see this through.

Tobias hurried to the third floor, removing the Marauder's Map from his robes. As he approached this one-eyed witch statue, he noticed that someone was following him. He squinted down at the map, making out the name that hovered above the tiny dot. He quickly turned around, making himself face to face with Neville.

"Neville," He said smoothly. "This isn't the way to Gryffindor Tower."

The boy shuffled his feet. "That's because I'm not going to Gryffindor Tower. I'm going with you. To Hogsmeade."

The Slytherin had to admit that he had not prepared himself for this. "No, you're not Neville." He said. "I've already decided that I'm going by myself."

"And I've decided that I'm going with you." Neville's voice quivered a bit, but he tried to stay strong nonetheless.

"You do know why I'm going to Hogsmeade, don't you Neville? It isn't to flaunt about in Honeydukes or The Three Broomsticks. I'm going to capture Sirius Black."

"I know." Neville said, his chest pounding so hard he was sure Tobias could hear it. "And I want to help. What if Black gets the upper hand? He won't be expecting me to be there."

Tobias shook his head. "But if you get hurt, Neville, it'll be my fault."

"I won't. I promise. Scout's honor." The Gryffindor said quickly, holding up his hand like Theo. "I'll do everything you say. I just want to help."

The Slytherin closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He could find use in having an extra hand in his plan, but it did make him nervous that it was Neville who decided to be the lending hand.

"Fine." He finally said. "But you must do everything I say. _Everything_ , Neville. Whether you agree or not."

Neville nodded furiously, excited that he had succeeded in convincing Tobias to let him come along. Tobias opened the hump on the one-eyed witch's statue, instructing Neville to jump down the chute. Once Neville jumped down, he waited a few seconds before jumping in himself. And on their way they went to Honeydukes.

* * *

Blaise was shocked when Hermione had cornered him in Honeydukes. He had assumed that he had overstepped a few boundaries that day in the library, and figured that the witch was taking her space. But as the days went by, he couldn't help but feel guilty about what he had done. In a matter of months, maybe days, he would be going home. And Granger would be stuck with this timeline's version of himself—a version that was blatantly rude to the Gryffindor witch.

A version that wouldn't remember the times they had shared in the library—the friendship they had shared over these past months. A version that he knew would hate her for the very things Blaise liked about her. He realized it was cruel of him to pursue whatever this was with Granger, when it would hurt them both in the long run.

So Blaise Zabini decided, against his better judgment, to push Hermione Granger away. And what better way to do that—than to be the version she would eventually wake up to anyway? He would be the rude and despicable Blaise Zabini, who had no respect for muggleborns and blood traitors. Who only cared about himself, and would do anything to get his way. The thought itself made him sick, but it was what he felt was necessary. To ruin everything he had done these past few months…to spare Granger of the pain that would come if he didn't.

He pushed down the butterflies in his stomach as Granger approached him, regretting everything he was about to say to her.

"Blaise…" She said, and the Slytherin wanted to give up, but he couldn't.

"Granger." He said shortly. "Came to ask for a handout?"

Hermione furrowed her brow, but ignored his question. "I wanted to talk to you, about the other day…"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"If this is about me walking out on you Blaise, I came to apologize and –"

Blaise scoffed, feeling a queasy feeling in his gut. "I don't need your feeble apology, Granger. I'm actually glad you left, it brought me to my senses. I've realized I have been wasting my time with you."

The words stung Hermione as much as it did Blaise. She realized that this was more than her leaving him in the library earlier in the week.

She frowned. "Blaise…what are you…"

"Talking about?" The boy spat. "I'm talking about how for the past months I've been on you like a bloody dog. Following you like I'm Malfoy or one of those other pathetic misfits you call friends. We aren't friends, Granger. We were _never_ friends. You were only a distraction while I adjusted myself to this new timeline. And now that I'm leaving, I don't need you anymore."

 _Congratulations Blaise._ The boy thought. _You've ruined yet another friendship._ He felt like he was going to throw up, seeing the tears form in the witch's eyes. He didn't mean to make her cry—well he did mean to—but the sight of it made him feel awful.

Hermione tried to fight against her tears, but she couldn't help them. It wasn't the words that Blaise spat at her, it was _why_ he was doing it. She figured it out from his last statement: _And now that I'm leaving, I don't need you anymore._ Blaise was trying to push her away, to end their friendship. The same thing she wanted to do. And though she wanted him to stop, she couldn't. This was what needed to be done.

"Oi!" She heard someone say. She turned around, tears still falling down her cheeks, to see Ron and Theodore marching towards them. _Oh no._ She thought. She looked back at Blaise, noticing that the boy was preparing himself for what was to come.

"You get away from her you slimy git!" Ron barked.

Theodore was rolling up his sleeves. "I suggest you listen to him, Zabini. Or it'll be more than your jaw I'll be punching this time."

Blaise didn't expect Hermione's other friends to get involved so soon. He stepped in front of her, facing Weasley and Nott head on. He knew that both boys wouldn't let Hermione near him after this, but it was necessary.

"If you must know," He said, donning his prep boy posture. "It was _her_ who came to me. Once again, Weasley, you've lost control of another one of your pets." _You've done it now._

Before he could even blink, Blaise's jaw met the fist of Ronald Weasley. And the Honeydukes brawl began. The tan Slytherin did his best to defend himself against Ron and Theodore, both hotheads in their own way. But it was too much for him, he realized he didn't have the strength to fight them—not when he had just ruined the best friendship he'd ever had.

"Stop it!" Hermione cried. "Ron, please! Theo!"

But it was no use, no matter how hard Hermione screamed, the boys kept fighting. It wasn't until somebody alerted Hagrid, that the fight ended. The game-keeper grabbed both Ron and Theodore by their robes, carrying them out of Honeydukes. Professor McGonagall entered next, escorting a bloody and injured Blaise Zabini back to the Hogwarts castle.

"Will you be coming too, Miss Granger?" The Professor asked. Hermione looked at Blaise. His left eye was swollen and his lip was bleeding. His robes had been torn and he had scratches on his skin where his robes were ripped.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione blinked, another tear falling down her face. "Um, no ma'am."

Professor McGonagall gave her a look, but didn't protest her decision. "Very well. Come Mister Zabini, we must get you back to the castle quickly."

As soon as the Professor left Honeydukes, the shop became filled with whispers and conversations about what had just happened. Hermione wiped her face, deciding that she would also return to the castle. But before she left, she noticed something on the floor. A necklace—with the Zabini family crest on the front.

She figured Blaise must've lost it in the fight. She picked it up, tucking it away in her robes. She then left Honeydukes, ignoring the whispers behind her.

* * *

Tobias and Neville had just entered Honeydukes when the fight began. They couldn't see who was involved, but knew exactly who it was when they heard Hermione screaming.

"Stop it!" She cried. "Ron, please! Theo!"

"Who are they fighting?" Neville whispered. "Should we go help?"

"No." Tobias said. "If we get involved, we'll blow our cover."

Neville nodded, but deep down he knew they should have done something. Whatever Ron and Theo had gotten themselves into, he knew it wouldn't end well. But he had promised Tobias that he would do anything the boy asked him, which meant he had to ignore the fight between his friends.

Tobias was thankful that everyone's attention was on the fight and not them. It made it easier for him to sneak out of Honeydukes and to the woods near the Shrieking Shack. As they walked through the woods, Tobias could feel someone following him. His heart skipped a beat, but he hoped that it was Sirius Black.

"Tobias." Neville whimpered. "I heard footsteps behind me. I think someone is following us."

As soon as Neville said it, the pair heard a twig snap. Tobias removed his cloak, whipping out his wand as he spun around. But there was nobody behind them.

"Come out, Black!" He yelled, his wand at ready. "Show yourself!"

Neville's body trembled with fear under the Invisibility Cloak. Would Sirius Black show himself? Or was he creeping around the woods, waiting to catch them off guard? He took a deep breath, pulling out his wand.

"SHOW YOURSELF!" Tobias screamed, fear and anticipation running through his veins.

His held his breath as he saw a set of hands, holding themselves up in surrender. The Slytherin then watched as a bed of blonde hair slowly revealed itself to them. Their follower wasn't Black at all.

It was Draco.

"What are you doing here?" Tobias asked, now disappointed.

"I came as backup." Draco lied. "To catch Black by surprise in case he got the upper hand."

"I don't need you here for backup. I brought Neville."

"Longbottom's here?" Draco asked. "Where?"

Neville removed the cloak from his head. "Here."

Tobias shook his head. "You couldn't let me do this on my own, could you?"

"Did you even have a plan?" Draco scoffed. "Or were you planning on hollering at the trees until Sirius Black appeared?"

"If you were planning to help," Neville spoke next. "why didn't you say anything? Instead of following us here?"

"Because I knew Tobias would act like this if I asked." Draco lied again. He hated the fact that he was once again lying to Tobias, after everything that happened, but his cousin couldn't know his true intentions. He had been following them since they left Honeydukes, but didn't account for how loud his footsteps would be when they entered the woods. He was falling behind, and tried to pick up a bit of speed, and that's when he stepped on the twig.

Tobias's eyes went to slits. "This is my fight, Draco. Not yours!"

" _Your fight?_ " Draco sneered, his hand balling into fists. "Black is after _all of us_! Not just you Tobias! This is as much as my fight as it is yours!"

"Come on, guys." Neville said. "Not here."

"Because of me!" Tobias roared back. "Ron got attacked because of me! Everything that happens to you, is my fault!"

"WE CAN PROTECT OURSELVES, LESTRANGE!"

Neville heard more footsteps approaching. "Maybe we should finish this in the castle." But neither of the Slytherin boys were listening.

"I DON'T WANT YOU ALL TO FEEL LIKE YOU NEED PROTECTION!" Tobias spat back. "Why can't you understand that?"

The footsteps were getting closer. "Guys…" Neville warned.

"BECAUSE—"

"AHHHHHH, A FLOATING HEAD!"

Draco and Tobias's argument stopped, turning their heads to the newest occupants of the forest. Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Their focus then went to Neville, who only had his head outside of Tobias's Invisibility Cloak—giving the illusion that his head was floating in the air.

"Oh no." Neville said, realizing his careless mistake.

"Go." Draco said to Tobias. His cousin nodded, disappearing under the Invisibility Cloak with Neville, directing them back to Honeydukes. Draco knew he had to distract the other three Slytherins, giving Tobias and Neville enough time to return to Hogwarts. Thinking fast, he picked up a wad of mud, hurling it at Crabbe.

"Hey!" the boy growled. "You're gonna pay for that, Malfoy."

"That's if you can catch me you oaf." Draco retorted back. He flung another wad of mud at them, and the next fight in Hogsmeade began. Draco did his best to hold off Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle with the mud balls, but he soon found himself in over his head, when the other Slytherins began making mud balls of their own.

The blonde Slytherin abandoned the mud balls, pulling out his wand. He conjured a spell, tying all three of their shoes together. When Crabbe went to throw his next mud ball, his shoes caught themselves, causing the boy to fall in the mud. Not knowing their shoes had done the same, the other two ignored him and went for the kill. Goyle had gotten the farthest before he tripped as well, falling on top of Crabbe.

Draco snorted to himself, making a run for it out of the woods. He caught up with the rest of the students, as Professor Sprout was rounding everyone up to return to the castle. At the last call, he saw Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle walking out of the woods, their robes covered in grass and mud.

* * *

Tobias and Neville had made a run for it once they left the woods. They needed to get back to the castle before Millicent, Crabbe, and Goyle did. He was sure the three Slytherins would talk about what they saw, but no one would believe them if at least one Professor had proof that they were in the castle the whole time.

They moved as quickly as they could through the tunnel from Honeydukes back to Hogwarts.

"Keep going Neville." Tobias said. "We have to get back before everyone else does."

Neville tried his best to move faster, but his legs and arms felt like spaghetti. What would happen if someone found out that he had been spotted in Hogsmeade? What would Professor McGonagall do? What would his grandmother do?

Tobias sighed in relief when they reached the end of the tunnel. "It's alright, Neville." He said confidently. "We made it. Everything is going to be fine."

But the Slytherin soon found himself eating his words when Neville opened the hump. Tobias felt a dark cloud loom over him as they came face to face with Professor Snape. The professor stared at the both through his beady eyes, no doubt trying to decide what punishment they should receive.

"No, Mister LeStrange." He drawled. "I don't think everything will be alright."

 **Author's Note: just to avoid any confusion—no, Draco didn't know he was talking to Peter Pettigrew.**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~TheeStoryTelle**


	62. POA24: Your Punishment Soon Enough

Oh, you can cry on my shoulder

Everything's Alright

All the pain is finally over

You can close your eyes

~ You Can Cry x Marshmello

Chapter 62: Your Punishment Soon Enough

Narcissa Malfoy watched carefully as the family seamstress make the final adjustments to Bellatrix's wedding dress. The Lady Malfoy had to admit that her older sister looked beautiful, the most beautiful she had ever been in a long time. Seeing her in this dress made her think back on past times—when all of her sisters seemed one in the same. Before Hogwarts, before the war, before marriage…

"You absolutely beautiful, Bella." She said to her sister. In response, the elder Black grunted, frowning at herself in the mirror.

"I don't _feel_ beautiful." Bellatrix said irritably. "I feel weak and disgusting. And does the dress _have_ to be white?"

Narcissa smiled. "Well, maybe if you were marrying out of love instead of power, you would feel how you look. And yes, the dress has to be white. It's tradition."

Her sister grunted again. "You say it like I'm not capable of loving someone, Cissy. But it's not that, I'm just not capable of loving _him._ "

"He's a good man." The blonde witch said. "Better than…" She trailed off, the words catching her tongue.

Bellatrix went silent, a lump catching in her throat. Her mind ran to the past, to the moment the true love of her life was taken from her. When Lord Voldemort perished in front of his followers, leaving them alone. Claiming that he had foreseen a much greater world for all of them, but all she could see…was that she was alone now. And now there was a void in her life, if anyone could believe that possible, that could never be filled again.

"All done." The seamstress said, stepping back to look at her work. "You look stunning Miss LeStrange. You groom will be lost for words when he sees you."

But Bellatrix didn't respond, she stared at herself in the mirror…wondering what it would be like if her love was her groom, and not this mortal of a man she had claimed herself to. How it would feel to be staring into his dark eyes, their hands locked…

"Thank you." Narcissa said, dismissing the seamstress. When the door closed, she walked over to her sister. And for the first time in her life, she saw that Bellatrix was trying to hold back tears.

"Bella…"

Her sister sniffed, quickly wiping her eyes. Narcissa then saw the wall forming back around her sister's emotions, and the vulnerability that she once saw disappeared. Bellatrix steeled herself together, stepping down from the stool.

"Help me out of this dress." Bellatrix demanded. "There's still work that needs to be done."

* * *

Ron and Theodore were still 38 hot when they arrived at Hagrid's Hut. The boys had expected the game-keeper to deliver them to Dumbledore's office, as Professor McGonagall had instructed, but since it was Hagrid—they knew that they would be saved.

Well, at least from Dumbledore…

"Wha' were yeh thinkin'?!" Hagrid fussed. "Were yeh even thinkin' at all?! Fightin' Zabini like that?"

"You didn't hear what he said to her, Hagrid!" Ron fussed back. "The things he was saying to Hermione!"

Theodore nodded. "He deserved it. Every bit of it."

Hagrid shook his head. "Maybe he did. But wha' he didn' deserve, was you two jumpin' on 'im like that. Yeh nearly killed 'im!"

"We didn't…." Theodore started to say. He looked down at his fists, which were dirtied with Zabini's blood. "I didn't…"

"Yeh didn' mean to, but yeh did." Hagrid said. "Zabini wasn' even puttin' up much o' a fight with you two."

Ron was silent, feeling a bit guilty inside. He did, in fact, notice that Zabini gave up a few seconds after the fight had started, but Ron was too angry to stop. He honestly had to ask himself was he fighting Zabini for what he had said to Hermione, or getting out his own anger for the things he had said? Either way, Hagrid was right. Zabini may have been a prick to Hermione, but he didn't deserve the beating he and Theodore had given him.

Theodore couldn't stop looking at his hands. He didn't even realize how much of it was there until now. He barely remembered the fight—he remembered Ron throwing the first punch, and that was it. He blanked out—not even trying to comprehend what was going on. And there was this feeling, this sick feeling…that he was enjoying it. That he was enjoying every punch that met Zabini's face. And he didn't want to stop…

 _That's all they want us to be. Murderers and liars…_

The next thing he felt was the tears splashing down on his hands, mixing in with the dried blood. His anger had gotten the best of him again, but this time he couldn't recall what he was even angry about. And it was that very reason, why Lord Voldemort made him an heir. Because he couldn't be controlled, he couldn't even control himself.

"You two have some anger 'n yeh. I see tha' now." Hagrid said, pouring them both a cup of water. "Yeh remind me o' myself, when I was yer age. Angry at the world, angry at myself. Got me n' a whole lot o' trouble, and eventually got me expelled."

Ron and Theo recalled the trouble that Hagrid was referring to. They learned about most of it last year, during the Chamber of Secrets investigation. How Hagrid always snuck off to the Forbidden Forest, bringing back whatever creatures he could find. And how he fought to no end for these creatures, and that was an easy feat for anyone who opposed the half-giant. Which led him to the fight against a young Tom Riddle, who in turn, got him expelled from Hogwarts.

"There'll always be bad people." Hagrid continued. "You lot'll meet someone a lot worse than Zabini, and yeh won' be able to beat 'em by throwin' a fist. Yeh gotta learn how ter use this." He then pointed to his head.

"Is that what you do, Hagrid?" Theodore asked, remembering what he had said to Hermione the other day.

The game-keeper nodded. "I try to, but my mind isn' like yours." They noticed that Hagrid's demeanor had changed, he was no longer the angry giant he was when they first arrived, now he seemed sad as he spoke to them.

"Your trial…" Ron started, remembering the small detail. "It was this week wasn't it?"

Hagrid nodded, and the two boys felt even guiltier than they already had. They had been so worried about their plans for Hogsmeade, that they had forgotten about Hagrid. And even as that say in his hut, exploding in their anger about what Zabini had done and listening to Hagrid lecture them, they still hadn't remembered….until now.

"We lost." He croaked out, wiping his tears. "S' all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me. An' then Talia Zabini…I los' me temper." He took a shuddering breath, trying to get through the rest of his story. "She said her bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what she told 'em…"

Theodore didn't know what to say. Neither did Ron. They sat there speechless, listening to Hagrid's story, wondering what they would have done in that situation. They couldn't help but think, that if Hagrid hadn't lost his temper, Buckbeak would've won his case. And in turn, they realized that's what Hagrid was trying to tell them.

"You two are a lot smarter than me." Hagrid said, looking at Buckbeak from his window. "An' I'm tellin' yeh this now before it's too late. Yer anger isn' yer strength. Not to people like the Zabinis. In their eyes, 's nothin' but a tool."

Ron and Theo listened, wishing they could have done more for Hagrid. Wishing they could have done better at Honeydukes. They could've dragged Hermione out of there, away from Zabini. Made sure she was alright and prevented from ever going near him. But they chose to fight fire with fire, which they now saw wasn't the best thing to do.

"Don' let 'em turn yeh into a tool. D'you understand me?"

Both boys nodded, understanding completely.

* * *

Everything hurt. His arms, his legs—everything. Weasley and Nott had done a number on him, and Blaise couldn't help but feel that he deserved it. The things he had said to Hermione were incredibly rude, and he wished that those words hadn't come so naturally out of his mouth. But that's who he was, really—not this new and improved person he believed himself to be now.

 _It's only until you leave._ He told himself. Once he left this timeline, he wouldn't feel this way about the things he said. Everyone would expect him to be this way, and he would fit right in. Here, everything he did just caused more pain—for both himself and the people he cared about. He thought he was making things right, but he realized he was only making them worse.

The hospital wing was empty except for him. Madam Pomfrey had left to grab her some dinner from the kitchens. She left Zabini a bell, just in case he needed her, but he had found himself well taken care of. He knew the soreness would go away, but unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey didn't have a remedy for the aching in his heart.

The doors to the wing opened, and the tan Slytherin assumed it was the school nurse returning with her meal. He closed his eyes, pretending to be sleep to avoid any interaction with her. The footsteps came closer, stopping at his bedside. He assumed Pomfrey was doing her regular check, but after a while, the footsteps never retreated. Someone had come to visit him.

He opened his eyes once more, his heart stopping when he looked into her brown eyes.

"Granger…" He whispered. "What are you…"

"Are you alright?" She said immediately.

"I'm fine." He lied. "Hermione, you shouldn't be here. After what happened…if someone sees you…"

She shook her head. "I don't care. I shouldn't have cared to begin with. I was so stupid, and I know you didn't mean those things you said. You were just trying-"

"You shouldn't be here, Hermione." Blaise said again, a lump forming in his throat. "You may not care, but I do. I'm leaving, and I can't keep being friends with you. That's why I said the things I did."

"Blaise you don't have to keep pretending—"

"And you need to stop pretending that this isn't who I am." He said, sitting up. "In my timeline, I say those things to you every day. And I don't care how you feel about them, I never did…" _Until now, you mean._ "And when I go back, I still won't care. It's who I am. I shouldn't have tried to change."

"But you did." The witch argued back. "And you made friends with the one person you never thought you could be friends with. It's not a bad thing to change, Blaise."

"It is when it was all for nothing."

"But it wasn't."

The boy scoffed. "You honestly believe that? When your Blaise Zabini returns, he'll be the same way, Granger. And the fact that I've changed won't matter."

"But when you return," Hermione said. "You can be better than what you used to be. And maybe we won't be friends, but you'll find other friends."

"I don't want other friends." He said. "I just want everything to return back to how they were."

Not wanting to argue anymore, Hermione counted his final words as a goodbye. After everything, Blaise was giving up. On her. On himself. He had tried so hard to be a better person, to be a good friend. And he could've been more than that. But the witch saw that he was hurting, and that there was nothing she could do to fix it.

She pulled out his necklace from her robes and set it on his bedside table.

"Goodbye Blaise." She whispered, fighting another set of tears. "I'm so sorry."

She then left his side, running out of the hospital wing in a band of sobs. Blaise felt his own tears running down his face as well. It was true, he had given up on everything. The one time he had tried to fix his mess, it blew up in his face. He couldn't stand this pain any longer.

He used all his strength to get out of his bed, grabbing his robes. Wrapping himself in the black cloth, he walked out of the Hospital Wing. Leaving his necklace on the bedside table. His next destination.

Dumbledore's office.

* * *

"Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep you safe! And here you are, flaunting about in Hogsmeade! And to make things worse, you brought Longbottom with you!"

To say that Snape was upset was an understatement. Tobias had never seen the man so angry. Neville was shaking furiously in his seat, and the tears kept falling down his face. The Slytherin heir felt guilty, he shouldn't have brought Neville along. It should be him, alone in Snape's office being yelled at, not Neville. He should've told Neville to go another way, or maybe he should've been the leader. He could've kicked Neville back down the chute the minute he saw Snape.

"But Tobias LeStrange goes where he wants to, does what he wants to, with no thought of the consequences!"

"Professor I…" Tobias tried to say.

"SILENCE!" Snape roared back. "Your grandfather would be disappointed in you, Mister LeStrange. And so am I! Your father _died_ trying to fight off Black—your grandfather did everything he could to keep you out his grasps! How do you think they would feel if they knew you were _purposely_ sneaking into Hogsmeade to let Black find you?"

Tobias had no answer to that. He remembered the argument he had with his grandfather right before he died. His grandfather made it very clear that Tobias was no match for Black, but something inside him wanted to test that theory. After what happened to Ron, Tobias risked it—to keep his friends safe. But he knew he ruined that, bringing Neville along.

The professor sat back down in his chair, sighing heavily. "I understand you're scared, Tobias." His voice was now calm. "But this isn't your fight."

"But it is Professor." Tobias said. "Sirius Black is here because of me. He came after Ron to get to me. I just wanted it to stop."

"And if Black had killed you, Mister LeStrange," The professor said darkly. "Do you think he would have stopped there?"

Tobias didn't think about that—he didn't want to think about that. He kept his mind from wondering to a scenario where he failed and Black succeeded. What would the ex-convict do next? Would he still go after all his friends? Would he go after his mother?

"What if Mister Longbottom had gotten hurt? Or even worse, murdered…"

"I just wanted it to stop, professor." Tobias broke down, and it hurt Snape to see the young boy this way. He thought about what he should do—how Lily would handle the situation. Being that this was her son, she would hug him and tell him that everything would be alright—though she was already forming a plan in her head to fix the situation. But Snape wasn't one for hugs, and given everything that was going on, he didn't have a plan to apprehend Sirius.

"I will do everything I can to protect you and your friends, Tobias." Snape said. "But you must promise me that you won't try anything this reckless anymore. Understood?"

Tobias wiped his eyes, taking in Snape's words. Professor Snape had been there for him since the moment he stepped foot in Hogwarts. From the incident on the third-floor corridor to the Chamber of Secrets. Snape had always done everything he could for Tobias and his friends—and because of that, Tobias trusted Snape dearly. He nodded.

"Good. Now, may you please escort Mister Longbottom back to Gryffindor Tower."

Neville's sniffed. "We're aren't receiving a punishment?"

Snape looked at the boy, whose face was wet with tears. "It seems as if you have endured enough punishment, Longbottom. As for you Mister LeStrange, you will learn that when you aren't using this," He placed a finger on his temple. "you'll find your punishment soon enough."

Tobias nodded. "Yes sir." He and Neville then left, the Longbottom boy still sniffing from Snape's rant. The wizard sighed once more once the door closed, hoping that he handled the situation the right way. There was no question as to how Tobias and Neville were able to sneak from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, but he had to make sure that the _owner_ of such contraption knew it was being used.

He sent for the man, and after a few minutes, there was another knock on his door.

"Come in." Snape said tiredly.

The door opened and Remus Lupin stepped in, he looked confused, seeing as Snape had never invited him to his office before.

"Something wrong Severus?" He asked.

"I just caught Tobias LeStrange and Neville Longbottom sneaking back in the castle from Hogsmeade." The other wizard said.

"Oh." Said Lupin. "And where are they now?"

"I sent them on back to their common rooms. But that hardly matters. What matters is how they got there."

"They probably snuck out with the rest of the children. Polyjuice potion, perhaps. It wouldn't be their first time."

"They were caught at the one-eyed witch statue." Said Snape, locking in Lupin's attention. "A spot you are very familiar with, if I recall correctly."

Remus's eyes went wide, his knees feeling weak. "It must've been a coincidence. Any student could have found that spot."

"He has it, Remus." Snape cut through his excuses. "He has your map, and he's been using it to sneak out of the castle and to do Merlin knows what. This time…he was using it to go after Sirius."

"That's impossible." Lupin argued. "I had it locked away in Filch's office when I graduated. Who could've…"

Snape scoffed. "I have three suspects. The biggest troublemakers in this school. Nott and the Weasley Twins. But how he got isn't our issue, Remus. The boy is spiraling out of control, and so is Sirius. We need to get that map before Tobias does something else, or before Sirius gets it…"

Lupin nodded, trying to take in everything. "Right. I'll speak to Tobias as soon as I can."

"Very well."

Lupin made his way to the exit, but stopped himself. He turned around, staring at Snape once more.

Snape rolled his eyes. "What now?"

"You really care for him, don't you?"

"Get out of my office, Remus."

Lupin stared a while longer, but then left. But both professors knew the answer to his question. Snape indeed did care about Tobias LeStrange, and it wasn't because Lily Potter was his mother—he truly cared for the boy. In all attempts to be distant from him, to let Dumbledore handle all things that was Tobias LeStrange, he found himself always being the one to handle it. And in turn, he found himself growing a soft spot for Lily's son.

And he had to also admit, that he didn't want that feeling to go away.

* * *

That Monday, tensions were still hot between Tobias and Draco. The two boys barely spoke—only the usual "Hi" and "Goodbye" and during their plays at Quidditch practice. The Quidditch Final was coming up and they were finally facing Gryffindor. Flint noticed the tension between the two, stating that they needed to get their act together before Saturday, or he would do it for them.

Ron and Theodore informed everyone about Hagrid's case, and how Buckbeak was going to be executed towards the end of the term. Because of the increased security Dumbledore set up last week, it was impossible for the six to sneak down to Hagrid's, even with Tobias's Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione was still heartbroken about Blaise, and the pain grew more and more every day as she saw the boy reverting more like the evil and manipulative Slytherin he was. There was no convincing the tan Slytherin otherwise, and the witch had to accept that this was what Blaise wanted—and she would have to deal with it.

Neville was still a bit shaken up from Saturday's event. He was afraid to even look up at Professor Snape, afraid that the Potion Master may once again yell at him. A part of him told him that it was worth it, that he did what he wanted and had Tobias's back. But the other part of him, the coward part of Neville Longbottom, wished he had stayed in the castle.

The six were walking to Care of Magical Creatures, when they saw Zabini hanging with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Since when did they become friends again?" Draco grumbled. Hermione knew the answer, but did her best to ignore the tan Slytherin and his "friends."

As they got closer, they could see Hagrid walking out of his hut, wiping his face with his handkerchief. It was obvious that he had been crying, and everyone knew why. And, like old times, Blaise Zabini didn't make the situation any better. When he told Hermione he wanted things to go back to like they were, she didn't know he meant _exactly_ like they were.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" Zabini said, receiving laughter from both Crabbe and Goyle. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

At this point, Hermione Granger had endured enough. She could take the foul names and words Blaise spat at her. She had done her best to convince the other 5 boys to leave the Slytherin alone. But the more she did, the worse Blaise had become. She had finally given up on the new and improved Blaise Zabini.

She spun around, evading the grabs of both Draco and Theodore. She marched towards Blaise and… _SMACK!_ With everything in her, both strength and anger, Hermione Granger had slapped Zabini across his face. The tan Slytherin fell back, looking flabbergasted at the infuriated witch before him. Her hand then formed into a fist, ready to strike him once more, but—

"No, Granger!" Draco screamed, grabbing a hold of her. But that didn't stop her from rounding on Blaise.

"Don't you _dare_ call Hagrid pathetic!" She roared, her face red with anger. "When it's your fault that Buckbeak is being executed in the first place!"

She broke out of Malfoy's hold, pulling out her wand. Crabbe and Goyle jumped back, as well as Tobias, Draco, and Neville. They didn't want to be caught in the crossfire. Ron and Theodore, however, ran to the witch's side.

"He isn't worth it, Hermione." Ron said, he tried to grab her again, but she swung her hand out of his reach.

"Get _off,_ Ron!"

"Come on, Hermione." Theodore pleaded. "You're better than this. You're smarter than this."

Hermione ignored them both, her blazing eyes staring into Blaise's brown ones. He looked pathetic—all this time he had been trying to convince her and himself that he was nothing more than the Blaise Zabini he once was. But the old Blaise Zabini wouldn't have allowed Hermione Granger to have the upper hand. He had changed so much, that he didn't even realize that he could never be the Blaise Zabini he was before. She honestly felt sorry for him.

She scoffed, putting her wand down. "Leave. Hagrid. Alone." Was all she said before spinning back around and walking towards the open grounds near Hagrid's hut. The rest of the boys remained there, looking at the defeated Blaise Zabini standing there.

"Come on." He said, his words directed towards Crabbe and Goyle. The three then walked past the five boys, heading towards the grounds as well.

"Is it me?" Theodore said. "Or did Hermione get really scary, really fast?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at the witch. Something had happened between her and Zabini, which explained Ron and Theodore's fight in Honeydukes the past weekend. Something in his gut told him that he should have never let Zabini become friends with her, that all he would do was throw her away when he was finished. He guessed he did have to add "Hexing Zabini" to his to-do list.

* * *

"You're late, boys!" Professor Flitwick said as Neville, Ron, Theodore, Draco, and Tobias entered the classroom. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we're already divided into pairs—"

The boys had found their seats. Ron and Theodore had paired up, as well as Neville and Draco. Tobias had to pair up with Pansy, seeing as their search for Hermione didn't pan out well. After Care for Magical Creatures, Hermione completely disappeared. The boys weren't sure where she had gone, checking all the possible places. Ron and Neville searched all through Gryffindor Tower, asking Ginny to check the girl dormitories. Draco searched the whole library, using Tobias's cloak to search through the restricted section. Tobias searched all the bathrooms in the castle, even Moaning Myrtles. But no matter where they looked, Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found.

"I hope she's alright." Ron said to Theo. "She look completely mental after that stunt with Zabini."

Theo agreed. "It's like she's transformed from Jean Grey to the Phoenix."

"To who?"

"Nevermind."

Draco could barely pay attention as he kept his eyes on the classroom door. Any minute now, Hermione would walk in class, and his nerves would settle. But as the minutes passed by, the blonde Slytherin had to accept that she wasn't going to show. And that made his anger against Zabini burn deeper.

"Word is going around the castle that Hermione slapped Zabini." Pansy said. "Thanks to Daphne."

Tobias nodded. "It's true. And the weird part about it, I thought they were friends—or had some type of understanding. I've never seen Hermione so upset."

Pansy directed her eyes to Blaise, who was partnered with Goyle. Granger had informed her that Zabini would be returning to his own time, but that didn't explain why Zabini was being extremely rude to her. Or why he had resulted into being friends with Crabbe and Goyle again. And since nobody could find Hermione, she would investigate the situation from another angle.

She would go after Blaise.

* * *

Charms had ended, and Hermione never showed. The five boys met back up at the back of the classroom, trying to calculate how much time they had before Divination.

"Hermione could've done with a Cheering Charm on her," Ron said. "I feel happy…but I shouldn't be. Seeing as we have no idea where she is."

The other boys nodded, feeling the exact same way. They decided to grab a quick lunch, before starting their search again. They hoped they would find the Gryffindor witch at the Great Hall, but no luck. By the time they finished eating, the effects of the Cheering Charm had worn off, and the boys were now more stressed than ever.

"Remember during first year when Hermione went missing for a whole day, and then a troll broke into Hogwarts, and we had to save her from it in the girl's bathroom?" Theodore said, as they searched the corridors.

"Yeah," Draco answered. "Why?"

"I'm way more stressed out than I was then. And that's saying something."

The five boys made one more attempt to check Gryffindor Tower before heading to Divination. They passed the security trolls—Draco, Theodore, and Tobias had to be patted down—and then they scrambled through the portrait hole, only to find Hermione sitting at a table in the common room. Her head resting on an Arithmancy book.

The boys walked over quickly, Theodore using his wand to prod her awake. They all jumped back as Hermione woke with a start, her bushy hair everywhere. They noticed she looked extremely stressed and tired.

"What's going on?" She said, staring wildly at her friends. "Is it time to go to class? Which lesson do we have next?"

"Divination." Neville answered.

Ron nodded. "But it's not for another twenty minutes."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Let's cut to chase, shall we? Why didn't you come to Charms, Granger?" He also wanted to ask what was going on between her and Zabini, but decided to save that question for another time.

"What?!" Hermione cried. "Oh no! I forgot to go to Charms!"

"But how could you forget?" Tobias asked, frowning deeply. "You were just with us at Care for Magical Creatures."

"I can't believe it!" She said, ignoring Tobias's question. She got up quickly, stuffing everything and anything into her bag. She was doing it so quickly, she made a mistake and packed Theodore's wand.

"Was Professor Flitwick angry?" She cried. "It was Zabini. I was so caught up in what happened earlier, I lost track of time!"

"Honestly, Hermione," Ron said carefully, watching the frantic witch pack her things in her bag. "I reckon you're cracking up. You're trying to do too much."

Theodore nodded, pulling his wand out of her bag. "You're had a lot on your plate since the term started, and it's finally catching up with you. You're going mad, love."

"No, I'm not!" She protested, wiping the hair out of her eyes. "I just…Zabini…and… I just made a mistake that's all! I'll just go see Professor Flitwick before class…see you all in Divination!"

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione ran out of the common room so fast, he barely got his words out.

"Is it too late to plan an intervention?" Theo asked.

* * *

With twenty minutes until Divination, Pansy had used that time to find Blaise. She had believed Granger when she said the boy had changed, and for a moment, it had seemed as if he actually had. But now, all masks were off and Pansy was seeing clearly. It was just like Blaise Zabini to have someone as innocent as Granger wrapped around his finger, only to discard them when he was done. And now that he was going home, Pansy assumed that he had no more use for Hermione.

She wanted to strangle him.

Pansy found Blaise in the library, sitting at a table by himself. She picked up her pace, still trying to think about what to do when she got to him. She decided to keep her hands to herself—unless the action deemed necessary.

"Are you an idiot?" She spat. "Or do you just always make your friends cry?"

Blaise sighed. "Leave me alone, Parkinson."

"Leaving you alone would be a mercy after what you've done. You had Granger believing, and convincing everyone else, that you had changed. But look at you—you're just as you were before."

"I guess I should've known I would be hearing from you soon."

"I would have thought Weasley and Theo would've knocked some sense into you." Pansy raged on. "But it seems they knocked a few more screws loose. _Have you gone mental?!"_

"It's what needs to be done!" The boy spat back. "One day, Granger is going to wake up and I won't be here. It'll be _him._ The Blaise Zabini who hates her…but all she would see is me."

"So you're _preparing_ her?! She doesn't need you to prepare her, Zabini! She was fine before you came around and she'll be fine afterwards."

"And what if she isn't? What if she isn't and she blames me for coming along and doing that to her?"

Pansy scoffed. "So that's what you're worried about? Her blaming you?" She put her face in her hands. "You boys are all _exactly_ the same."

Blaise watched as the Slytherin witch sighed, and he hoped that the wrath of Pansy Parkinson was over.

"As much as I would like to tear into you right now, Blaise," She finally said. "I'm not going to do it. I'm going to let you live with all the stupid things you've done since last week. Hopefully, you gain the sense to fix it."

She grabbed her things and walked out the library, shaking her head as she walked. Blaise knew this wasn't the end of confrontations he would receive from Hermione's friends. He wasn't so much worried about Longbottom, but he dreaded the moment Malfoy and LeStrange got involved. He remembered the last time he had hit a nerve with LeStrange about Hermione, he almost got sacrificed in the Forbidden Forest. He also knew how much Malfoy cared for the witch, and that his wrath would be the most dangerous of them all.

"Salazar, help me." He said, before banging his head against the table.

* * *

She was losing her mind. Leave it Blaise Zabini to have her going crazy—acting out violently, _missing class._ It was so unlike her. And on top of that, she wasn't able to find Professor Flitwick to find out what she missed in class. She was sure that Cheering Charms would come up in the exam, and hated herself that she had missed the lesson.

But what really drove Hermione Granger to the edge of insanity, was Divination.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron said, eyeing the misty crystal balls that were set on each table.

"Shut it, Weasley." Draco said. "This means we're finally done with palmistry."

Theodore nodded. "It's only so many times I can look at Professor Trelawney flinch every time she touches Tobias's hand."

"Good day, good day," came this misty and somewhat-mysterious voice of Professor Trelawney. She made her usual dramatic entrance into the classroom, which cause Hermione to roll her eyes. Her star pupils, Lavender and Parvati, quivered with excitement.

"I know you all are wondering why I've decided to introduce the crystal ball so early." She continued. "And the answer is that the fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice.

Draco's attention was diverted when he heard Hermione snort.

"Granger..." He warned.

"Well, honestly, Draco." She hissed, not even bothering to whisper. "…'the fates have informed her'…who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!"

Theodore was having trouble choking down his laughter while Ron put his face in his hands.

"Here we go again." He said.

However, the professor continued as if she hadn't heard Hermione's comment. "Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art. I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes. To clear the Inner Eye and superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

"The only thing I _see_ is a snooze fest." Theodore joked, causing Ron to snigger uncontrollably, stuffing his fist in his mouth to stop his laughter.

The class begun, and Tobias, as well as the others, felt extremely foolish. Hermione didn't even pretend that she was interested in today's lesson, leaving Draco alone to finish their assignment. Neville was trying his best to gaze into it, but made a mistake and knocked over his and Ron's ball, causing the red-haired Gryffindor to giggle even more. Tobias was sure that Theodore was just watching the mist move, and he himself couldn't help the thoughts of _this is stupid_ run across his mind.

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione said again, her voice louder. "I could be practicing something _useful_. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms—"

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" Professor Trelawney announced over Hermione's complaints. The boys were sure she had heard Hermione's comments this time.

"I think I've got it." Neville said, excitedly. "I thought it was something wrong, but really, mine is telling me there's going to be loads of fog tonight."

Tobias's mouth dropped open, and wished that Neville was joking. But once Ron, Draco, Hermione, and Theodore burst into laughter, leaving Neville's face an embarrassing red, Tobias knew that this was no joke. And once realizing, burst into a fit of laughter himself.

"Now, really!" Professor Trelawney cried. The whole classroom had turned their heads on the six friends, Lavender and Parvati looking the most scandalized. "You're disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!"

She marched straight to Tobias's table, and the Slytherin heir knew what was coming. Theodore placed his fingers in his ears as he already knew what was coming as well.

"There is something here!" The professor whispered. She lowered her face to the ball, causing Hermione to roll her eyes once more.

"Something moving…but what is it?"

"If she says the Grim," Ron whispered to Neville. "I swear I'm going to cut my eyes out."

"My dear…" Professor Trelawney said with a shaky breath. Her eyes met Tobias, and he literally wanted to be anywhere else but here. "It is here, plainer than ever before…my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer…the Gr—"

"Oh, for _goodness'_ sake!" Hermione said loudly, and Draco knew he couldn't stop her this time. "Not that ridiculous Grim _again!_ We get it! Sirius Black is after Tobias—that's not a prediction! _Everyone_ knows!"

Ron shook his head. "She's finally lost it."

The professor looked surprised, her eyes growing wide at the Gryffindor witch. There were whispers all through the classroom, and there was no mistaking the newfound anger on Professor Trelawney's face. But her anger was nothing compared to the fire burning inside of Hermione's.

"I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my _dear,_ it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don't remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane."

Hermione scoffed. " _Hopelessly mundane?!_ "

"Granger, stop." Draco said, hoping that she wouldn't press any further.

"Fine!" The witch said, standing up from her seat, stuffing her book back into her bag. "I give up! I'm leaving!" She stormed to the trapdoor, ignoring the eyes that had fallen on her. She kicked the trapdoor opened and climbed down the ladder.

Draco sighed deeply, knowing that if he didn't talk to Hermione now, she would continue this reign of terror. He also grabbed his things, following the witch down the ladder as well. Once they left, the classroom erupted in a storm of whispers and laughs.

"Ooooo!" The girl named Lavender called out. "Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered. You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor?"

"Oh, give me a break." Theodore groaned.

" _'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!_ You said it _ages_ ago, Professor!"

The anger and distress seemed to have disappeared from the professor's face at Lavender's announcement. She gave the girl a dewy smile, striding away from Theodore and Tobias's table.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have been mistaking the Signs…The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know…"

Ron grunted. "Yeah, for us."

Tobias looked back into his crystal ball, hoping that Professor Trelawney was putting on a show, and hadn't really seen the Grim. If Sirius Black was near Hogwarts, it meant that he was going to attack again. But who would be his target this time? A selfish part of him hoped it wasn't him, the Quidditch finals were almost here. But another part of him was worried…that one of his friends were next.

* * *

"Granger!" Draco called, running behind her. "Hermione! Wait!"

Hermione didn't want to stop. Stopping would only make the rush she had go away. Today had been quite a day for her. She had slapped Zabini, almost hexing him on the grounds. She missed Charms. And now this—she left Divination, but not before giving Professor Trelawney a piece of her mind. She didn't expect Draco to follow after her, and something squeezed in her chest when she heard his voice. A part of her wanted to be left alone, but another part of her needed him to be there.

"Hermione, please." He pleaded, and this was the first time she had heard Draco Malfoy plead for anything. And that made her stop, and all thoughts that once clouded her mind disappeared.

Draco finally caught up to her, glad that she had stopped walking. Her hair was in her face, and he was pretty sure she had been crying. If she was aware of it, the blonde Slytherin wasn't sure. But he needed to talk to her, and hopefully she needed to do the same. Whatever mess the Gryffindor witch had gotten herself into, he made it his responsibility to be the one who got her out of it.

He didn't say anything then, only taking her hand and guiding her to the once place Hermione Granger always felt safe. The library. He was relieved when she didn't fight his embrace, when she didn't protest—or even ask—where they were going. She only followed, trusting Draco with everything inside her.

He found a table at the back of the library, but still cast a silencing charm over the area. He turned back to look at her, and that's when the witch broke down. She flung her arms around Draco's neck and began crying. The blonde Slytherin immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her tighter as she cried harder. He had never seen her like this before. _What have you gotten yourself into Granger?_

After a few minutes, Hermione finally stopped crying—resorting to small sniffles and watery eyes. They sat side by side in the library, Hermione resting her head on Draco's shoulders.

"What's going on, Granger?" He asked, running his fingers through her bushy-brown hair.

"Everything." The girl sniffled.

And that's when she told him—everything. Starting with her time turner, and how she had been using it to get to all her classes. How she swore to Professor McGonagall that she wouldn't tell anybody about it. But she broke that rule, when Blaise Zabini cornered her in the corridor that night. When he showed her his time master and explained to her that he wasn't from this timeline and that he needed her help.

She told him about how she and Blaise were meeting in the library in secret, trying to find every way to fix the timeline he had ruined—and how she grew fond of the new and improved Blaise Zabini he was trying to become. She told him how Blaise was now seeing the future, and how in his last episode, he ended up in Dumbledore's office.

She told the Slytherin about her crush, and how just last week, Blaise had kissed her. But not before he had told her that he would be leaving soon. That he would be returning to his timeline, and that the Blaise Zabini from her timeline, would be returning. Which led to Blaise's plan to revert back to the rude Blaise Zabini that hated her guts—a premature plan to spare her feelings for what was to come.

"So," Draco said, trying to wrap his head around everything Hermione told him. "Blaise Zabini is a time traveler?"

"Something like that," Hermione responded. "He only went where Voldemort told him, too. And he wouldn't even tell me that."

"And he's been a prick, because he cares about you?"

"He's being a prick because he cares about himself. But deep down inside, he does care about me…I guess."

Draco sighed. "I admit. I thought he cared about you, too. Maybe he still does, in his own way. You saw the way he didn't fight back after you hit him. He didn't even egg you on when you pulled out your wand, knowing if he did…"

"He could have me put in detention for the rest of the term, or even worse, expelled."

"I don't think you should give up on him." The blonde Slytherin suggested.

Hermione scoffed. "Are you serious? He's already given up on himself—and the things he's been saying to me—"

"Has he called you a mudblood yet?"

The word made her tense up. She hadn't heard the word since last term. She felt Draco tense up, too—the word still made him uncomfortable.

"You forgave me," He went on. "Even when I called you the most despicable name I could ever call you. You didn't give up on me, even when I gave up on myself."

She sighed. "Yeah, but what about the whole fate thing? How we're meant to be friends, no matter what?"

"But you didn't feel that way before. You didn't give up on me because that's not the type of person you are, Hermione. If you reject Blaise, if you fight fire with fire, you'll end up just like him."

It was weird. That Draco was the one giving her advice instead of the other way around. But she found it refreshing, talking to Draco. Telling him everything that she had been holding in since the term started.

"He won't talk to me." She said. "And when he does, it'll be something rude."

"Give him time." Draco said. "He's hurt that he has to leave." He smiled. "I would be hurt, too—probably might die—if I had to leave you. But he'll come around, once he realizes that he should have spent all of his days with you."

Hermione cocked her head to look up at him. And his grey orbs sparkled, and she was able to see those blue specks in them.

"And you wanted to be like him."

"Like him? Oh, Salazar no." Draco snorted. "I just wanted his techniques that's all."

"You don't need his techniques, Draco Malfoy. You have your own."

There was a silence between them. And both of them reflected on their conversation. Draco could hardly believe that he was giving Hermione advice on Zabini. He couldn't believe that he had listened to her whole confession, and didn't want to snap the tan Slytherin in half. He wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but he made a mental note to visit the hospital wing after.

Hermione was also surprised by Draco's reaction. She had expected the blonde Slytherin to fly off the handle—on a hunt for Zabini's blood. And a part of her wanted to. But instead, she listened to Draco make some good points, and decided that she was glad that Malfoy didn't turn into a pool of anger after all.

"But," Draco said, interrupting the silence. "I'm not against hexing him into next week if necessary."

* * *

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Lupin said, opening the Marauder's Map for the first time in years.

Though Professor Lupin had said that he would talk to Tobias about the map, he had a hard time finding the boy since Saturday. With that being said, Snape had ordered Tobias to deliver it to him, claiming that the map was a dangerous tool and he shouldn't have had it in the first place. While part of that statement was true, Remus never found the map harmful in anyway. But every user had their own purpose.

The map opened, the thin black lines looping and zig-zagging to make the wondrous map of Hogwarts. He studied it, reliving the days he, Sirius, James, and Peter would look at this map to find anyone and anything they needed in the castle. It was a time where the map was used to hide from Snape, or to play pranks on fellow students—instead of now, where it was used to find a murderous Azkaban Escapee on the grounds.

But luckily for Lupin, Sirius was nowhere on the map. He saw Tobias LeStrange and his friends eating dinner in the Great Hall. He saw Severus sitting in his office, as well as Dumbledore—and Blaise Zabini?—sitting in his own.

But then, the professor spotted something. Something that made his body freeze on the spot. His hands went rigid, and his eyes were afraid to blink. There was a dot, looming by one of the broom closets. And above that dot, read a name that Remus Lupin had not seen in a long time.

Peter Pettigrew.

Lupin felt sick, he felt tricked. For so long, he thought the man to be dead. But he was alive? But then—no, the map was never wrong. The map was _never_ wrong. So how could this be—how could Peter Pettigrew be in the castle.

 _He's got you all fooled._ He heard Sirius's words echoing in his head.

He had said all those things to his best friend. Had believed that his friend could be a murderer, and did all he could to push him away from the one thing he broke out of prison for. And after all this time, Sirius had been right. Peter wasn't dead.

Sirius Black was innocent.

 **Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


	63. POA25: Distractions

And I want these words to make things right

But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life

Who does he think he is?

If that's the worse you got, better put your fingers back to the key

~ Thanks fr the Mmrs x Fall Out Boy

Chapter 63: Distractions

Bartemius Crouch Jr. was never the one for fancy suits and dress shoes. He was never comfortable in a formal setting—he had never had the spotlight as "Man of the Hour." For him, a large gathering of men and women meant a raid, or a riot. Looting and vandalizing all he could. It was what he was comfortable with. But that was his life under Lord Voldemort.

And Lord Voldemort was dead.

In Azkaban, he dreamed of the moment he would be free every night. And the things that he would do once he got out. But, never—even in his wildest dreams—had he thought this would be the turn of events once he was a free man.

"You look like a man of true power, Bartemius." Lucius Malfoy said proudly. Crouch had to hold in his cringe at the sound of his first name. Only his parents called him that. And didn't even sound remotely proper coming out of Malfoy's mouth. But this was his life now.

The life under Lucius Malfoy.

"Doesn't he, Cissa?" The blonde man called to his wife.

Narcissa Malfoy nodded, as most pureblood wives would do. "Yes, my love. He does."

But Crouch Jr. didn't feel like a man of power. He felt like a monkey—and this suit was the icing on the cake. One may have seen the groom of Bellatrix LeStrange, but the man felt like he was being sown in as Lucius's puppet. Since the break out, Lucius had been controlling the strings. Putting thread where it needed to be, cutting the right size and picking the right color of fabric—putting together the perfect suit. For the perfect pawn.

And now the tailor was finalizing all that hard work, sewing in every piece of string and fabric together. For this moment. Crouch wish he had seen it sooner. But every pawn has its day.

"Oh, don't frown." Lucius teased. "You'll only have to wear the suit for a couple hours and then it's done."

The tailor then wrapped a white cape around Crouch's back, hooking it onto the gold buttons on his white suit vest. His wedding robes were complete.

"Done." The tailor said. "Should we go discuss payment, Mister Malfoy?"

The blonde wizard laughed. "You business men, always in a rush for the gold. I'll lead you to my study."

The tailor didn't seem amused, but nevertheless grabbed all his tools and followed Lucius out of the fitting room. Crouch Jr. took this time to examine his wedding robes. He saw what Lucius meant, but he just didn't feel like it. Marriage was supposed to symbolize the bonding to someone you love. But Bellatrix didn't love him—she only loved what came with him.

A seat inside Lucius's inner circle.

"How did you know she was the one?" He heard the Lady Malfoy asked. "My sister?"

"How does anyone know?" Crouch Jr. let out a small laugh. "She was passionate, during the Dark Lord's reign. The only female Death Eater who _wanted_ to go to a raid. Who gained a rush every time we were sent on a mission. She was a good soldier. But now…"

He looked down at his robes, eyeing the blood red rose pinned to the fabric. "…but now, I don't know who she's becoming into. Or maybe she was always this way…and I just didn't see it."

Narcissa gave a small smile, as if she was reflecting on her own marriage. "Marriage has a way of doing that. Showing you all the colors of someone you love. And you have to ask yourself…had it been there all along?"

"She doesn't love me." He said.

"She will." Narcissa responded. "She just doesn't know it yet. You're a good man, Crouch. And a good role model for Tobias."

The man sighed, a part of him wanting to believe that Narcissa would be right. But though he was a good man, Bellatrix would never care for him as he did her. Had she cared, she wouldn't have twisted their marriage into a plot with Lucius Malfoy. He kept his eyes on his white suit.

"All this white." He said softly. "And one red rose. Like blood. It's ironic, isn't it?"

Narcissa nodded. "All this purity, and we are still tainted." She then rose from the couch, leaving Crouch Jr. alone in the fitting room.

* * *

The House of Black was full once more—except for the appearance of Sirius, who no one had seen since Lupin's outburst at the last meeting. They were all waiting for Dumbledore, who was always the last to arrive. However, Snape could barely hold his patience—eyeing the brown parchment sitting in front of Lupin. During his days at Hogwarts, he had always heard of the Marauder's Map, but had never seen or used it in person.

His leg bounced uncontrollably under the table, the pace picking up when he heard Dumbledore's footsteps in the foyer. He honestly didn't care about Lupin's announcement, he just wanted to see the map.

"Goodmorning," Dumbledore said with a smile, the usual twinkle in his eyes under his moon-shaped spectacles. He sat down in his seat at the head of the table. "What do we have today?"

Snape took this opportunity to snatch the map from Lupin and slide it towards Dumbledore, not wanting to wait any longer. He noticed that Dumbledore didn't even look a bit surprised at the parchment in front of him. However, everyone else in the order had confused looks as to why Snape was so hyped up about a piece of blank parchment.

"Is anybody going to tell us what the bloody hell is going on?" Mad-Eye grunted.

"This…" Dumbledore said, tapping the parchment with his finger. "Is the Marauder's Map. A whole map of the castle is embedded into this parchment. Given the user unlimited access to secret passageways and the whereabouts of everyone in the school."

He then looked at Lupin, who looked as if he just committed a crime suitable for Azkaban.

"However," The older wizard continued. "I thought this map to be locked away in Filch's office. _After_ the Marauder's graduated from Hogwarts."

Lupin smiled nervously. "Well, you see Dumbledore, it seems that someone may have taken it from Filch's office. Maybe Fred and George Weasley, or even Theodore Nott."

"I wouldn't put it pass my boys." Arthur Weasley said. "A map like that is worth more than galleons to them."

"Despite how it was taken." Snape said, his patience hanging on by a thread. "It was found in Tobias LeStrange's possession. He has been using it to sneak into Hogsmeade…looking for Sirius."

"That's not all." Said Lupin. "Last night, I found something—well someone." He wiped his eyes, knowing how crazy he would sound when he said it. "Peter Pettigrew is alive. He's in the castle."

There was silence. The Weasley's looked as if Lupin had gone mad. Kingsley looked normal, but the gears in his head were turning full speed. Mad-Eye shook his head, taking a sip of whiskey from his flask. Professor McGonagall was resisting the urge to roll her eyes. And Tonks look as if she felt sorry for the man sitting beside her.

"Remus…" She said. "I know you felt bad about Sirius, but that doesn't mean…"

"He's alive, Tonks. I saw him on the map. And the map is never wrong."

Molly protested. "You could've been tired, Remus, from all the work. Our minds can play tricks on us sometimes. Make us seen the things we want to see."

"Do you honestly think I _wanted_ to see Peter Pettigrew's name pop up on that map?" The wizard shot back. "Open it. And you will see the truth."

And as if "open it" were the magic words, Snape snatched the map up. He opened the parchment, his heart pounding with anticipation as he stared at the blank canvas. He whipped out his wand.

"Show yourself!" He commanded the map, but it stayed blank.

"Severus…" Lupin said. "That's not how you—"

"Reveal your secret!" The wizard commanded once more, ignoring Lupin's comment.

Kingsley frowned. "Maybe you have to tell it who you are."

Lupin tried to interrupt again. "No, that's not it—"

"I, Severus Snape, would like to access this map!"

Snape hit the map again with his wand, and almost jumped for joy when ink started to appear on the parchment. Lupin shook his head, crossing his arms around his chest as he knew what was about to happen next. Since Snape wouldn't listen to him, he figured he deserved a good laugh.

Everyone crowded around the map, awaiting the full map of Hogwarts to appear. But everyone's face turned into one of confusion, and Snape felt a fire starting in his gut.

 _Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Severus Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business._

Everyone looked at Lupin, knowing who the name "Moony" belonged to. The Wizard sat with his face in his hands, wishing Snape had just listened. Mad-Eye had to suppress a laugh as the next words on the parchment appeared.

 _Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Severus Snape is an ugly git._

Professor McGonagall spoke next, trying to keep a straight face. "Are…are you _sure_ this is a map?"

"Looks like something Tobias bought from Zonko's." Kingsley said.

"Oh, it's a map alright." Lupin responded.

 _Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor._

 _Mr. Wormtail bids, Severus Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball._

The writings then disappeared, leaving the meeting room in dead silence. Snape's face had gone completely red. He should have known the map had a trick for anyone who wasn't a Marauder—in other words, in case he tried to open it. His eyes snapped to Lupin.

"You said this was a map!" He roared. "You lie to me, and then made a fool out of me in front of everyone!"

The other wizard rolled his eyes. "It _is_ a map. And had you been listening, you would have heard me say that's _not_ how you open it." He casually slid the map back towards him, preparing to say the magic words.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He said. The ink reappeared, but this time the ink began to form thin black lines, which began their journey into making the complete map of Hogwarts. The other members of the Order left Snape's side and gathered around Lupin, awe-struck in the contraption before them. Snape, however, was still blowing fumes.

"There." Kingsley said, pointing at a dot near a broom closet. "There he is."

And there he was. Peter Pettigrew. Roaming around the broom closet near the Slytherin dungeons. Nobody could believe what they were seeing. Sirius was right. This whole time—Sirius had been right. And everyone had called him crazy, or yelled at him for being delusional. But Peter Pettigrew was alive.

"But if he's alive…" Molly said. "That means…"

"Sirius is innocent." Said Lupin, eyeing the dot. "And Peter lied, to all of us."

"Son of a bitch." Mad-Eye growled.

Tonks frowned. "What do we do now?"

They all looked at Dumbledore, who hadn't moved since the map ordeal started.

"The first thing we do," He said. "is find Sirius. Find him before he does something reckless. Next—"

"Am I late?" A voice interrupted Dumbledore.

Quirinus Quirrell walked into the Black Family Kitchen, surprised to see a full house. They were all crowded around Remus—except Snape and Dumbledore—looking at some piece of parchment. However, their attention was diverted when he walked inside.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Quirinus, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"Yes, but I couldn't wait another day." He said. His eyes then met Snape, and he tried his best to push back all his anger towards him. "Severus." He snipped.

"Quirinus…" Snape's anger had subsided once he saw Quirrell's face of restraint. "I wasn't expecting you…"

"To stand in front of you without the urge to kill you? Yeah, same here."

"What are you doing here?" Tonks asked. "I mean, not that we aren't glad to see you. We just…you just..."

"It's alright, Tonks." Quirrell said sweetly. "I missed you, too."

"Well, this arrival has come just in time for our next task," Dumbledore took back over. "Quirinus has agreed to help us change the timeline."

Snape couldn't take his eyes off the man. There was so much he wanted to say to him. But he never thought he would get the chance, seeing as the man blamed him for his mother's death.

"With we must find Sirius and keep him under control so we won't speed up the End of Time. And we must prepare Quirrell and the Zabini boy for the timeline alterations."

"He has to go with him?" Kingsley asked.

"Blaise wouldn't tell us what Voldemort made him change." Professor McGonagall said next.

"That's what we have memory spells for." Said Arthur.

"We can't do that at the risk that we may alter _all_ of his memories." Snape said. "His memories are clashing—his memories from this timeline and his own. We need him to remember as much as he can from the original."

"Severus is correct." Dumbledore said. "Blaise Zabini is now seeing the future, and we can't risk him getting his memories confused—or even erasing his memory."

He then turned to Quirrell. "We will be working with Professor Bins to pinpoint which time periods resemble a great change. That should give you an idea what to expect when you travel back in time. If you like, our studying can begin tonight."

"Works with me." Quirrell responded.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Then, it's settled. Quirrell, Severus, and I will work on the timeline alterations. Everyone else, work on finding Sirius. The Ministry must not find him first—they must also remain unaware of Pettigrew's whereabouts."

Quirrell felt something snap in his soul when he heard Dumbledore say that he would be working with Snape. Attending a meeting with the wizard was one thing, but working with him? He had half the mind to turn around and say forget the whole thing.

But he guessed he would have to be the bigger man for a little while longer.

* * *

"THIS IS LEE JORDAN AND WELCOME TO THE QUIDDITCH FINALS! GRYFFINDOR VS. SLYTHERIN!"

The Easter Holidays came around and with it came exams and the Quidditch finals. The school was in full frenzy mode—cramming in last minute assignments, studying non-stop for exams, and preparing for the biggest Quidditch match of the year.

The six friends found this exam season to be the hardest so far. Despite the holidays, their teachers didn't cut them any slack as far as studying and assignments. Neville seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Ron looked as if he wanted to burn the whole school down. And Theo found himself asking "Is school really worth it?" every time he opened another textbook.

But nobody had as much work as Hermione, who—even without Divination—found herself with a boat load of work that would make a seventh year pass out. Draco tried his best to help her, given her time travelling situation, but couldn't do much. He was having his own problems trying to balance Quidditch and school.

Flint scheduled a practice for everyday that week, putting the pressure on the whole team. Gryffindor was up by two-hundred points and he knew Slytherin needed at least that and more to win the Cup. More importantly, they needed Tobias to catch that snitch.

Tobias was trying his best to redeem himself from his mishap at the Hufflepuff game. The win against Ravenclaw felt great, but he knew winning the Quidditch Finals would be even better. He pushed himself to his limits, knowing that everyone was counting on him to win Slytherin the game.

"HOW CAN IT BE THAT THE BIGGEST MATCH OF THE SEASON IS ALSO THE BIGGEST RIVALRY OF THE SCHOOL?! TENSIONS ARE HOT!"

Tobias and Draco changed into their new black robes—a gift from Lucius Malfoy. Tobias couldn't help the anxiety building under his skin. He was trying to calm down, but hearing Lee Jordan's voice from the field made it no better. Especially since he knew that once they stepped foot out the tent, the audience would go wild, and all eyes would be on him.

"Nervous?" Draco asked, and Tobias could tell that the blonde Slytherin was also nervous. They hadn't really spoken to each other—except for Quidditch practice and library sessions. But Tobias saw that he was trying his best to make amends from what happened at Hogsmeade. He sighed.

"Yeah." Tobias responded. "You?"

The other boy forced out a laugh. "I feel like I'm going to bloody throw up."

They both burst into a fit of laughter, being thankful for it as it subsided their anxiety for the match.

"Time to go." Flint grunted, marching past them both with his broom in his hand.

As if they were walking into a wave, the field erupted into enormous wall of cheers and screams as the Slytherin team walked on the field. Half of the field was covered in green and silver, while the other half was covered in crimson and gold. Flags with snakes and lions printed on them were being waved in the air. Various colors of smoke were being thrown into the air. The atmosphere was unlike anything Tobias had seen before.

In the stands, the arguments and fights were continuing. Hagrid was working non-stop, escorting students from the field and separating others. Though the other four friends tried their best to avoid conflict, it seemed conflict found them.

"Tracey…" Ron fussed. "Flint is definitely, by far, the _worst_ keeper I've ever seen. He anticipates every catch—unlike Wood, who just feels it."

Tracey rolled her eyes. "That's a bunch of crap, Weasley. Flint's stats are _way_ high than woods."

"Because Flints a cheater!"

"And does Oliver Wood play by the rules?!"

Hermione also found herself on edge. She couldn't concentrate—she couldn't even think about the exams. Her eyes never left Draco and Tobias as they stepped onto the field, praying to Merlin that this game didn't get as serious as what was going on in the stands.

"Another fight broke out in the Hufflepuff section," Theo said, eyeing the scene through Hermione's binoculars. "If they keep going at this rate, there'll be no one to watch the match."

Neville nodded, wishing that the match would start already so everyone could focus on that instead of each other.

"And here are the Slytherins!" Lee Jordan called out, and a mixture of "boos" and "woos" filled the field once more. "LeStrange, Malfoy, Darcey, Pucey, Green, Garner, and Flint! New uniforms I see! Right on time for the greatest match of the century!"

Tobias and the rest of the team followed Flint to center field, where they met the Gryffindor team. Wood looked ready for war, as well as the rest of his team. Tobias's gaze met the Gryffindor seeker, and the Slytherin immediately got his head into the game, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch said.

Flint and Wood clasped hands, and it looked as if they were trying to break each other's fingers. The crowd went completely quiet, waiting patiently for the start of the game.

"Mount your brooms! Three…"

Draco mounted his broom, taking a deep breath. This was it, the Quidditch finals. He pushed everything out of his mind, only focusing on the broom below him and the Quaffle in Madam Hooch's arms.

"Two…"

Tobias gripped his Firebolt, the tip of his feet touching the grass. He was ready to shoot himself into the sky, waiting for that moment where he would go after the snitch.

"One…"

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" Lee Jordan announced as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Both teams kicked furiously off the ground, the whooshes from the brooms being drowned in the screams from the crowd.

Tobias zoomed to the highest point of the field, keeping his eyes on the chasers and Gryffindor's seeker. He needed to make sure the seeker didn't get to the snitch before he did—especially not before Slytherin scored fifty points.

"And its Gryffindor in possession," He heard Lee Jordan say on the intercom. "Spinnet from Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for Flint for the goal. NO! Quaffle intercepted by Malfoy, who is racing towards the Gryffindor end. Nice Bludger work by the Slytherin Team—keeping them away from Malfoy, very nice strategy."

Draco felt the wind ruffle through his clothing as he sped across the field. He kept his eyes focused on the goal, picking up more speed by the minute. He dodged everything in his way, gripping the Quaffle as if his life depended on it. He smirked as he got closer, preparing to score the goal.

His smirk grew even bigger as Oliver Wood prepared himself for the goal, but he wouldn't be prepared for this. Draco zoomed towards him, faking the goal and causing Wood to lose his balance on his broom. Draco then whipped around and goes for the goal, making it effortlessly.

"NICE PLAY BY MALFOY!" Lee Jordan screams. And the Slytherin fans go wild. "TEN-ZERO TO SLYTHERIN!"

"Dammit." Draco heard Oliver say, laughing as he flew back to the Slytherin side of the field.

"Gryffindor back in possession. Johnson with the Quaffle. She zooms past second-year Slytherin chaser, Alex Darcey. She's coming for Flint— _ARGH!_ A Bludger! But Johnson's STILL HOLDING ON!"

 _Get ready Flint._ Tobias thought to himself. The anxiety was killing him. The Gryffindor Seeker was flying throughout the whole field—and Slytherin only had ten points.

"Johnson throws the Quaffle, and…SHE SCORES! TEN-TEN GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor half of the stands went into a state of victory, meeting a wave of "boos" from the Slytherin half.

"Told you he was anticipating." Ron said cheekily.

"What if I anticipate this fist in your mouth?" Tracey snapped back, using Hermione's binoculars to watch the match. "Would you shut it then?"

"TWENTY-TEN TO SLYTHERIN! DARCEY WITH THE GOAL!"

Draco was on his way to give Alex a quick high-five when a Bludger came zooming past him. He picked up speed, luckily being able to grab Alex before the Bludger hit her. His eyes shot towards the Weasley Twins, who seemed to be hiding their beater's clubs behind their backs.

"Oi!" Draco screamed. "Watch where you're aiming that thing!"

Fred Weasley smirked. "We did, ole chap!"

As soon as he said it, a beater club hit him in the nose, receiving a mixture of cheers and boos from the stand. Draco turned to see that it was one of Slytherins' beaters who had thrown it, ensuring that they wouldn't mess with Alex again.

George Weasley went red then, seeing his brother's nose begin to bleed. "Why, you little…"

"That will do!" Madam Hooch screamed, zooming in between them. "Penalty shot to Slytherin for attempted attack from Gryffindor. Penalty shot to Gryffindor for deliberate damage from Slytherin."

Draco could hear Wood hollering from the goal posts. "STOP MESSING AROUND! WE HAVE A GAME TO WIN!"

Alex flew forward to take Slytherin's penalty shot. Tobias watched her, but also noticing that the Gryffindor Seeker had stopped searching for the snitch. His eyes glued to Alex.

"Alex Darcey for the penalty shot." The crowd had gone completely silent again. "She goes for it—NO…I mean…A STRAIGHT SHOT PAST WOOD! THIRTY-TEN TO SLYTHERIN!"

Tobias then watched as Alicia Spinnet went forward to take Gryffindor's penalty shot. Flint clenched his jaw, bracing himself as the girl whooshed to position.

"Come on, Alicia!" Lee Jordan said. "Flint prepares himself for the whistle! It's been sounded! Very difficult to pass anddddd FLINT WITH THE SAVE!"

Tobias nodded in relief, glad that Gryffindor didn't make the penalty shot. He flew around the Quidditch pitch, searching for the snitch. He knew it wouldn't be long before it was released and the Gryffindor Seeker would go after it. And once that happened, Tobias knew he needed to distract the boy until Slytherin reached fifty points.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession and its Katie Bell. Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle—Adrian Pucey on her tail."

Draco and Alex zoomed on each side of Adrian, pushing themselves further and further upon their brooms to pick up speed. They needed to catch Bell before she made it to Flint. Suddenly, they saw Adrian picking up speed, zooming past the Gryffindor chaser. Draco's eyes grew bigger, knowing exactly what Adrian was about to do. It seemed that Alex did too.

"NO! ADRIAN!" She roared.

Draco had no time to protest, he sped forward with tremendous speed. He zoomed past Katie Bell as well, swerving at the exact moment Adrian did, knocking the boy out of the Gryffindor Chaser's path. The scene made the crowd gasp and made Katie Bell hesitate, causing her to slow down.

"ALEX!" Draco screamed, trying to catch his momentum. "THE QUAFFLE!"

"Confusing play by Malfoy." Said Jordan. "But it caught the attention of Katie Bell, who ceased her path of destruction. She's trying to catch up speed, but…NO! ALEX DARCY WITH THE STEAL! SLYTHERIN IN POSSESION!"

"What the hell, Malfoy?!" Pucey hollered. "That steal was mine!"

Draco glared at him. "And so was another penalty shot to Gryffindor! We don't have to cheat to win, Adrian!"

"This is the biggest game of the season and you want to preach about _rules_ to me?!"

"OI!" Flint screamed. "SHUT THE HELL UP AND PLAY!"

"ALEX DARCY WITH THE SECOND GOAL OF THE DAY! FOURTY-TEN TO SLYTHERIN!"

Tobias felt the anxiety build back up in his chest, Slytherin only needed twenty more points and then he was free to catch the snitch. His anxiety was then mixed with a full rush of excitement as he spotted the Snitch, flittering around the Gryffindor goal posts. He also noticed that the Gryffindor Seeker was staring right at him, not even realizing the Snitch had been released. Tobias smirked, setting his plan in motion.

Faking a look of surprise, Tobias dipped his Firebolt downward, heading straight for the field. As he made his dramatic dip, he saw the Gryffindor Seeker speed towards him—it was working.

"What the bloody hell is he doing?" Ron asked, watching Tobias take his sudden dip.

Tracey smirked. "Making your Seeker look like a bloody idiot."

Tobias kept his eyes on the snitch, flying in the opposite direction of the golden-ball. He also kept his ears open for Jordan's announcement for when Slytherin received their fifty points. He also kept a look out from Gryffindor's Seeker, making sure the boy was still following him, otherwise….

 _WHOOSH._

Tobias lost his train of thought. A Bludger had just flown past his ear. He looked to his right and saw Fred Weasley, who was tailing them both.

 _WHOOSH._ This time the Bludger hit Tobias's elbow, but luckily the impact didn't cause any heavy damage.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Fred's trying to knock Tobias off his broom!" She looked towards Ron. "Ron you have to tell him to stop!"

Ron felt his stomach twist. "I can't."

"I'm pretty sure this is Wood's idea." Tracey grunted. "Gryffindor barely has any points, and if they catch the Snitch, they win the game."

Theodore covered his eyes. "Oh, this is not good."

Neville gulped, tightening his fists. " _Come on, Tobias._ "

"Gryffindor in possession again, Johnson with the Quaffle—she got passed Flint a first time, can she do it again?!"

Tobias's heart was beating triple time. It was too much going on. Listening to the score, watching the Snitch, distracting Gryffindor's Seeker, _and_ dodging Bludgers. It was more that he could handle, and he was worried that one more hit from the Bludger would take him out the game.

Draco growled when he saw what was happening to his cousin. He snatched one of the Beater's club, and speed towards Tobias. He watched as Fred Weasley prepared to whack another Bludger, the blonde Slytherin tightening his grip on the club.

 _WACK._ And the Bludger shot back towards Weasley, who barely missed it by an inch.

"Move out the way, Malfoy!" Weasley spat. "You aren't a Beater!"

Draco had to fight the urge to break Fred's nose again. He tossed the Slytherin Beater back his club, flying back into formation.

"GREAT SHOT BY JOHNSON! FORTY-TWENTY TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Tobias could barely express his surprise when he saw Draco zoom past him with a Beater's Club, knocking the incoming Bludger back at Fred Weasley. This was turning out to be the dirtiest—and possibly deadliest—game of Quidditch he had ever played. The tensions were heating up, almost to nuclear levels. If Slytherin didn't score these next few points soon, somebody was bound to get hurt. Or worse.

Draco felt the heat as this was no longer a fair game of Quidditch. Both teams were trying their best to hurt each other, though the blonde Slytherin refused to allow Gryffindor anymore penalty shots. He adverted every cheating scheme the Slytherin team had, and indirectly caused most of Gryffindor's.

This time, George Weasley was the cause of Slytherin's next penalty shot—elbowing Adrian in the face. The Slytherins were now up Fifty-Twenty. As Lee Jordan announced the score, the crowd went ballistic, knowing what this meant for the Slytherin team. Both teams looked past the looks of battle, and looked as if they were out for blood. Adrian Pucey was a terrible red in the face, spitting out blood every now and then. Draco's blonde hair was wet and dirty, the blonde locks plastered over his face. Alex looked like the second-year from hell. The Beaters looked ready to uphold their name. And Flint looked the hungriest of all, hissing sinisterly from the goal posts.

The rest of the Slytherin fans joined in, a loud and high hiss being heard all throughout the stands.

Tobias felt his heart pound with adrenaline—it was fear and excitement all in one. His uniform was covered in sweat and his hair was everywhere. The Snitch had disappeared and his eyes couldn't stop looking for it. He didn't care about Gryffindor's seeker any longer, all Slytherin had to do was score one more time, and it was his game.

"Malfoy with the Quaffle. Beaters Green and Garner holding formation around him, very nice strategy. The Gryffindor Chasers can't keep up. AND HE SCORES! SIXTY-TWENTY TO SLYTHERIN!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, OLIVER?!" Angelina Johnson hollered. Oliver Wood was shaking all over with anger—everyone also knew that this wasn't just Flint's last year, it was also Oliver Wood's. And both Captains wanted that Quidditch Cup before they left.

"Just play the damn game, Johnson!" Oliver snapped. "I won't let them win! I can't let them win!"

"Wood's losing it." Theodore said from the stands. "I've never seen him play so bad."

"This game is stressing me out more than exams are." Said Hermione.

"Gryffindor in possession, and Johnson is back with the Quaffle. She's heading right towards Flint…and WOAH! MARCUS FLINT IS BUMPED AT THE GOALS! JOHNSON PRESSES ON FOR THE SHOT! GOAL! SIXTY-THIRTY TO GRYFFINDOR!"

A wide army of "boos" could be heard from the stands. Draco quickly flew to Flint's aid, trying to talk him down from the retaliation that was resting in his heart.

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" Madam Hooch shrieked at Alecia Spinnet. "Slytherin Penalty."

Gryffindor booed as Draco went for his shot, but the boos faded into cheers as Oliver Wood got his mojo back and saved it.

Tobias didn't care that Draco missed the shot—the Snitch had appeared once more. And this time it was his. He put on a huge burst of speed, leaving the Gryffindor Seeker in the dust. The wind was roaring in his ears. He could taste the victory in his mouth. He reached out his arm, his fingers begging to be touched by the Snitch. But then he felt the Snitch becoming farther away, and his Firebolt slowing down.

He shot his head around. "You—"

The Gryffindor Seeker, with fear in his eyes as he met Tobias's green ones, had grabbed on to the tail of his Firebolt, pulling it back with all his might.

"LET GO!" Tobias hollered. He turned back around, watching as the Snitch was still floating where he last seen it, but the Slytherin Heir knew it wouldn't be there for long.

"I can't!" The Gryffindor Seeker cried. "I have to do this!"

"PUCEY WITH THE GOAL! SEVENTY-TWENTY TO SLYTHERIN!"

This had to end.

Tobias took a risk. A risk that would end his life—literally—if this went wrong. He turned his back to the Gryffindor Seeker, using all his might to push his Firebolt forward. Slowly but surely, his broom began to move forward, closer and closer to the Snitch. He could hear Madam Hooch's whistle blowing wildly, but Fred and George Weasley were doing their best from allowing her to reach the scene. As well as the rest of the Gryffindor Team, who were holding back the rest. Oliver Wood sat at his goal post, watching the scene with fiery eyes and a guilty heart.

This had to end.

"LET GO OF THAT BROOM, MANNERY!" Madam Hooch shrieked. "LET IT GO NOW!"

Tobias steadied himself, standing up slowly on his broom. He knew that his weight would become too heavy for Gryffindor's Seeker to hold, but that only meant that Tobias had to get to the Snitch as fast as he could.

The crowd gasped in fear, watching the scene with glued eyes. And it finally got the attention of one Pansy Parkinson, who was barely paying attention to the game. She stood up unconsciously, her eyes frozen on her boyfriend.

"What...LESTRANGE!" She hollered.

"Well, it's about time you got involved." Theodore said. "Tobias is trying to catch the snitch."

"And kill himself in the process!" The girl snapped.

Tracey shook her head. "Not if he catches the broom in time."

"But nobody has done that since Krum…" Ron said, his eyes wide. "Tobias can't take that risk!"

But he was taking it. The Slytherin Heir didn't know how high in the air he was, and he refused to look down. Looking down would only snatch his courage, and Slytherin would lose the game. He crept forward slowly, extending his arms to the snitch. He could feel his Firebolt dipping, and the pull from the Gryffindor Seeker was slipping.

"This is maddening!" Lee Jordan announced. "This is absurd!"

Bludgers were flying like wild pixies, and Draco was sure that the balls had been cursed. But it kept both teams at bay, neither the Gryffindors nor the Slytherins could move. One wrong move and a Bludger would knock them out cold. Madam Hooch was even hesitant to move—she needed to watch out for Tobias, who was making his death bed more and more with every step.

The crowd gasped loudly as the broom dropped suddenly, knocking Tobias a little off balance. He refused to look down, his hand reaching for the Snitch.

 _Come onnnnn._ He thought, gritting his teeth. Stretching his fingers as far as they would go. He felt like his heart was about to explode, his fingers grazing the gold metal. And then…

"TOBIAS!" Pansy screamed.

"AND TOBIAS LESTRANGE HAS SLIPPED OFF HIS BROOM!" Lee Jordan hollered in the microphone. "THIS HAS GOT TO BE THE MOST DANGEROUS QUIDDITCH PLAY I HAVE EVER SEEN!"

"If I die, I'm going to kill you LeStrange." Draco grumbled, sprinting towards his falling cousin.

The Gryffindor Seeker looked baffled, holding Tobias's Firebolt in his hand. The crowd watched in horror as Tobias fell faster and faster. Draco leaned forward, speeding as far as he could, but could feel the failure blooming as the Slytherin boy was falling too fast.

"He's not going to make it in time." Hermione squeaked, tears falling down her face.

"Oh no." Ron said. "The Bludgers are coming right after Draco!"

Draco sped forward, not wanting to give up yet. His goal was for Tobias's cape, or his shoe— _something._ He wouldn't let his cousin fall—not here, not ever…

 _CRACK!_

"ARGHHHH!" Draco screamed, plummeting towards the ground. The Bludger had hit him, dislocating his shoulder. He couldn't stop himself from falling, and he couldn't save Tobias.

"That's two Slytherins down. And Madam Hooch is waving the red flag, this game is over folks."

Draco hit the ground hard, gasping for air. He looked around for Tobias, who should have landed next to him, but he didn't see the boy anywhere.

The Slytherin team had touched down to the ground, running towards him. He also saw members from Gryffindor heading his way as well. All with looks that this game had gone too far.

"Malfoy." Flint said. "Malfoy, can you hear me?"

Angelina Johnson was on the brink of tears. "Is he alright?"

"Where's Tobias?" Draco said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore his pain.

"AMAZING SAVE BY OLIVER WOOD!" He heard Lee Jordan announce. "WOOD HAS JUST CAUGHT TOBIAS LESTRANGE!"

Everyone turned to see Oliver Wood touch ground with Tobias LeStrange on the back of his broom. Both players dismounted the broom, facing each other—not knowing what to say. Tobias couldn't believe that Oliver Wood had just saved him from certain death, and Oliver Wood couldn't believe that he had sacrificed the Quidditch Cup for a Slytherin.

"Why did you…" Tobias stared to ask, but Wood stopped him.

"It had to end, kid." Wood responded, slipping something into Tobias's robe. "Congratulations."

The Gryffindor Captain then walked off the field, leaving his team in shock. Tobias reached in his pocket, his eyes widening as he felt the Snitch. He had caught it, he remembered that much. But he also remembered dropping it, right before Oliver Wood had caught him. He definitely couldn't believe it now—Oliver Wood had given up his chance to win the Quidditch Cup.

"Wood…" He called out.

"Take it, LeStrange." Wood called back, a smile creeping upon his face. "It's yours."

The crowd was still silent, listening to the exchange between Tobias LeStrange and Oliver Wood. Tobias stood there silent for a moment, watching Oliver walk off the Quidditch pitch. He reached in his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the Snitch. He pulled it out, holding it into the air. The Slytherin crowd burst into cheers.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! TOBIAS LESTRANGE CAUGHT THE SNITCH BEFORE HE HIT THE GROUND! SLYTHERIN GETS ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POINTS! SLYTHERINS WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!"

"Well, I'll be damned." Theo said. "He pulled it off."

Tobias couldn't hold in the huge smile that took over him in that moment. Every Slytherin fan ran to the field, celebrating as if they had won the First Wizarding War. Flint sprinted towards Tobias, lifting him up in the air. Alex and Adrian surrounded them, whooping and hollering. Flint set Tobias on his shoulder, the Quidditch Cup in his other hand.

"Oi!" Draco called out, his dislocated arm wrapped around Hermione's shoulder. "You did it!"

"No!" Tobias screamed back. "We did it!"

"Hell yeah we did!" Flint roared. He hissed loudly, causing a ripple effect throughout the Quidditch Pitch.

Tobias looked around at the crowd, feeling something that seemed unreal. It was a great feeling to have everyone surrounding him and Flint on the field. Seeing the celebratory green powder bombs being thrown in the air. Having his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, run up to him to congratulate him on his win. Watching the world as it should be—dementor free, Sirius Black free, legacy free.

In this moment, he was Tobias LeStrange.

* * *

Snape watched the victory from Dumbledore's office. He and Quirrell both had agreed to miss the match to focus on the real problem at hand—the alternate timeline. Now that Quirrell had agreed to help change it back, both wizards had to work hard to pinpoint the time periods where Blaise visited. The term was ending fast, and they couldn't allow Blaise Zabini to leave the castle until everything had returned to what it once was.

"I remember the last time you attended a Quidditch Match." Snape said, trying to ease the tension in the room. The same tension that had been smelling up Dumbledore's office since they began working together. "You cursed Tobias LeStrange's broom."

Quirrell said nothing, flipping through the History of Magic and the Daily Prophet Archives they received from the Ministry. This wasn't Snape's first attempt to lower the tension between them, and frankly Quirrell was becoming annoyed. His only goal was to fix the timeline—to be the hero everyone needed him to be. And that was bigger than reminiscing with Severus Snape.

"You're going to have to talk to me some day." The wizard said, breaking through Quirrell's thoughts.

And even though his first instinct would have been to respond, Quirrell stayed silent. Snape the grew irritated himself. It had been a few weeks since he and Quirrell started working on the timeline together, and every time Snape tried his best to talk to his old friend. But Quirrell wouldn't give him the time a day—hitting a nerve that only the Gryffindors could hit. He did his best to give the wizard time—Dumbledore's Orders—but time was winding down, literally. And honestly, Snape didn't want to go out without making amends with Quirrell. Before the Philosopher's Stone, Snape and Quirrell were good friends. Quirrell had always been the one to see the good in people, the good in situations—something that Snape couldn't do.

And to see Quirrell fall to where he was—Snape felt like it was his fault. He should have been there to help his friend. To show him that he still mattered, instead of showing up on his doorstep when things were going wrong. And even then, he gave up.

But he refused to now.

"Quirinus I'm not responsible for your mother's death." Snape said, his gaze leaving the celebratory Quidditch field and on the bald-man in front of him. He saw the wizard tense up, and then relax.

"So, you've told me." He responded. "Yet, you won't tell me who was responsible."

Snape frowned. "You know why I can't…"

Quirrell laughed to himself. "Lord Voldemort casted me out his ranks, but he didn't forget to remove the mark from my arm. I'm still one of them, Severus…despite your crooked moral compass."

"It isn't about that. Things have…changed. People have." Snape was thinking about Crouch Jr., who had only done what he needed to do to stay alive under Lucius's rule. They weren't supposed to hurt Quirrell's mother, but Bellatrix had gone too far. Crouch Jr. didn't deserve Quirrell's wrath—but…

"Did they change before or after they murder my mother and left her to bleed out in my bedroom? Or did they change after they wrecked my apartment and wrote on the walls with her blood?"

Snape sighed. "I know you're hurting. In ways that no normal person could. But you are my friend, Quirinus, and implore you—"

The wizard almost lost his breath as Quirrell sprang up quickly from his seat, bringing himself an inch from Snape's face. His eyes were burning like a wildfire, and Snape had to brace himself for the fight that was itching to come next.

"Implore me to what?!" Quirrell snapped. "To forget? To move on? To _talk to you, Severus?_ To be your friend again?! You shut me out! All of you shut me out! I lost my job…my purpose… SHE WAS ALL I HAD! AND THEY TOOK HER!"

"I know." Snape said, staring into his blue eyes, trying to find the man who once lived there. "I treated you less than a friend when all you ever did was treat me like one. I wasn't brave enough to confront Tobias myself—for Lily—and you did it for me. And you lost it all, and I left you…"

Quirrell stared into Snape's black eyes, his breathing heavy and rough. He was trying his best not to punch him, though he very much wanted to.

"We have a job to do." He said, turning away from Snape and returning to his seat at Dumbledore's desk. He continued to flip through the History of Magic book and the old Daily Prophet Archives.

Snape watched him. A part of him was glad that they had this conversation, but the wizard had more to say. But he had to accept his defeat for today, hoping that Quirrell would ease up as time came to an end.

"How many changes have we found?" He asked, returning to his view of the Quidditch Pitch. The Slytherin celebration was still going on, green smoke filling the field.

"Two." Quirrell said shortly.

"Hm." Was all Snape said, not wanting to push the man any further. It was ironic—watching the students celebrate this victory, when in a few days, maybe weeks, this would all cease to exist. Couldn't they feel it? That something was wrong—that they didn't belong. Yet they celebrate…as if they would live forever.

"I found it." Quirrell said, and the other wizard noticed that his temper had subsided. He turned towards the man once more, preparing himself for the news that was to come.

"Where is it?" Snape asked.

"January 16, 1981." Quirrell said, a lump catching in his throat. "The day Lord Voldemort captured my mother…and ordered me to kill her…"

Snape took a step forward. "But…but she survived."

"There was...there was a distraction…" The other wizard said, but it didn't seem as if he was talking to Snape. It was more of him trying to gather his thoughts—him trying to remember that day exactly. "Somebody had broken into Malfoy's Manor…Voldemort had ordered everyone to check it out, thinking it was the Order. That's when…that's when I told her to run."

Snape knew exactly what he was thinking. "Quirinus…"

"It was him." Quirrell said. "Blaise Zabini was the distraction. He helped me save my mother."

 **Author's Note: For those who don't remember, Quirrell killed his mother on that very night in the Original Timeline. This was explained in the Philosopher's Stone.**

 **I also had a lot of fun writing the Quidditch Finals!**

 **Follow, Fav, and Review.**

 **~TheeStoryTeller**


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